Must've Been Born This Way
by wannabe allen
Summary: Stardate 2279 - The young son of Captain Kirk encounters someone closer to him than he might think. On the way, the whole crew finds a way back to each other. It's a combination of canon from TOS and exploration of minor characters.
1. Must've Been Born This Way

(The only thing of this story that is my property are the words themselves. The names, the history, the genre is all from the man, the myth, the legend Gene Roddenberry and the Star Trek franchise. It's a mix of Canon TOS, AU TOS and my own madness.)

Looking back on his past record, he never knew how he got himself into these sort of things. As the son of Star Fleet's most decorated capital and current admiral and the grandson of the famous officer who saved the USS Kelvin from imminent doom, David Marcus Kirk should probably have more aware of his surroundings that night in the bar. It was his last night of freedom before joining the newest ship in the fleet, and reflecting on it, he really should have been enjoying himself.

Instead, he was brooding. Over a glass of beer, too, which normally would have put him in better spirits but at this point just made him sad. The next morning, he would be aboard his first starship as an officer and he knew that it would be a rough journey either way. This ship was brand new, the USS Serenity, and it was captained by the newest and roughest of the Starfleet captains – and he had never met her. She, unlike all of the other captains he could have been assigned to, was one that was only an image in his mind; delicate auburn hair, hazel eyes, a smile that said both "Hello" and "Go to hell" at the same time. A woman that, in any other respect, he would have went after like a bee to honey.

But they'd never even met before, and he supposed that is what bugged him. He'd met every other captain in the fleet, but she'd been too busy studying Klingon anatomy and working on the relationships between the Federation and Klingon to even meet his father on Earth as everyone else had. She, the youngest person ever to be awarded title of Captain by , with every hair in place, every admiral in awe, and almost every decoration an officer could receive, would tolerate none of his crap. In fact, his father had met with him earlier to tell that unlike any of the other captains that he would have served with, he'd been assigned to the Serenity because Captain Joanna – no last name, that's how unique she was – was not a pushover or a kiss-ass. She got work done, and the Serenity was hers because she was off to negotiate peace with the Klingons after getting the first ship she commanded on blasted up because of rough Romulans who thought it best if the Klingons and the Federation did not have an informal treaty. She'd been in Starfleet since she was eleven and is the onlyperson to ever get their medical license and be captain of a starship before turning twenty one. As it was, his father was quite smitten with her because she'd even beaten the Kobayashi Maru without cheating. She would not let him get off easy because his last name was Kirk.

He took a sip of his drink, and snapped out of it. For once in his nineteen years of life, he'd be a normal ensign in the Starfleet program, getting work loaded onto him and doing physics and generally getting out of everyone's way. Honestly, what more could a man ask for?

"David!" A voice called, and he turned around quickly, the back of his left hand along with his beer glass running smack into the forehead of someone he hadn't seen. A crack was heard, a small noise of pain came out of that person while they covered their eyes with their hands in pain. She, and it was most definitely a she, was a brunette with red undertones, her bright green dress on the edge of suggestive but also familiar, black boots to her knees. She had two men next to her, the one on her left pulling her back to see what was wrong.

"Are you an idiot?" The other asked; he was a tall man with short, cropped black hair; he looked like a regular human but by the elegant way he was dressed, it was obvious he was something more than that, David just couldn't identify him. "Assaulting an high ranking officer of Starfleet will get you nowhere in life, especially since it seems like you're a cadet. Listen, sonny,"

"Excuse me? Sonny? My name is David, if you don't mind-"

"Sorry then, David, but hitting the captain of a starship with a glass of what looks like beer when you look about twelve isn't going to get you anywhere except court marshalled-"

"Again, I apologize, I didn't mean to hit her, nor did I know of her being a captain of a ship, I was merely turning to the sound of my name. I'm also nineteen and a ensign on a ship that leaves tomorrow, and I would appreciate it if you had let me apologize to the lady before jumping down my throat about being out of line …. You never mentioned your name, sir."

"Taggart, Commander Taggart Gignac, and ensign, I in no way meant to insult you, it was just very disrespectful and you look-"

"Well isn't that old adage 'Don't judge a book by it's cover' a good lesson here, Commander? I'll apologize to the lady and I'll be on my -"

"Be on your way? Why, you should leave this bar, as obviously your emotions are screaming that you -"

With that, David lunged forward to get in the man's face, his blue eyes blazing"You, sir, know nothing of me, or how I am feeling -"

"Taggart!" A third voice rang out, and the two men broke off their staring competition to look for the source of the voice. The brunette, her hazel eyes steeled on Taggart, continued "You forget that you read people like books when sometimes you invite yourself into minds where you are not welcome. You also are pushing a fight on someone who seems to wish to apologize for his behavior and leave the bar, as we were doing. Back off."

The tall man stood back, and as he brushed himself off, Taggart noticed that there was a sort of look of sorrow on his face.

"Seriously, Taggart, I've never met a Betazoid who liked to fight as much as you."

"Well, J, I've never met a woman whose as crazy as you." The man retorted, his eyes locked back on David. David noticed it seemed like he didn't have irises, just black orbs, which were staring at him intently "We're even. And I suppose I should leave Ensign David alone."

"Please, leave Ensign Kirk alone and let's go. I prefer to have the officers on my ship not beat each other to a pulp before our mission has even begun." David met her eyes, and they sparkled with secrets of something he wasn't quite sure of, "I'd rather he made an ass out of himself on the ship doing something stupid like his father said he would than whip your tail now and have to deal with being stuck on a starship with you for months on end."

Taggart shrugged in what could only be a signal of defeat, then bucked slightly at David, who backed off, half empty glass of beer still in his hand. Then, he turned abruptly and stalked out of the bar, the brunette and the other man, who looked vaguely familiar, holding hands and giggling behind him.

That moment, when they walked out of the bar, he felt as if he'd been saved, but at the same time, it was not going to be a pleasant experience when he stepped onto the ship the next morning. Instead of seeking out the voice that had got him in trouble in the first place, he just went back to his quarters to sleep. And by sleep, he meant think of the ways he was totally screwed.


	2. Somewhere In These Genes

(Now the originals. I know there's a lot of background right now and it might not make sense but give me a few, i'm trying! I own nothing except the words this time.)

On the same note, James T. Kirk also did not know how he got himself into these sorts of situations. His person, which was supposed to be going to the Vulcan colony to drop Spock off for a nice vacation, was instead being chased in a ship that wasn't even his to begin with for reasons unknown, as the ship which chased them wouldn't even respond to their hails. To say the least, this was not his first time being chased, and he resigned himself to a game of chess with Ambassador Spock while they waited for things to get sorted out.

Bones, on the other hand, was not taking this lying down. "Jim, can't you do something?" He complained, pacing while the other human and the Vulcan were intensely studying each other and the chess board in front of them. Spock was mercilessly killing him in the game, but Kirk was intent on beating that pointy eared bastard once before they got to Vulcan 2.0, so they'd been playing on and off since they'd left Earth. Now, they were somewhere not close to Vulcan 2.0, and the standings were somewhere in the range of Spock 17- Kirk O. He'd be damned if he got to more than 25 losses without one victory, and he couldn't concentrate with Bones pacing.

"I'm sure we'll be fine eventually – for goodness' sake, we're on Sulu's ship, and it's not like he doesn't know what he's doing. You, me, and Spock over here, we're just an admiral, a doctor, and an ambassador going to Vulcan to see Spock off and go home. Sure, we've run into a little trouble -"

"A little trouble? A LITTLE TROUBLE? Our last encounter with that Security Officer who loves you so very much must have knocked what little sense you had left out of you."

"Actually," Spock interjected, clearing the path for his queen while Kirk was distracted by their friend, "our last interaction with Officer Gray left Jim no worse for wear. The man had chemotherapy, if I recall correctly, and has thinned out quite a bit. He's also lost a bit of his bite without his weight, and he carries a cane. Jim would have had the tactical advantage if they had fought, but instead Jim bought him a ginger ale."

McCoy rolled his eyes at the ambassador, who had as close to a gleeful look on his face as his opposer moved his bishop right into the path of his queen on the attack board as McCoy had successfully distracted him. "I meant when we were younger, Spock, not now. You know I didn't mean it literally."

"Quite the contrary," the Vulcan replied. "Your tone indicated you expected him to jump out and repeat the last reaming he had of Jim, which I suppose was when I kicked him off of the Enterprise approximately twenty one years and-"

"Alright then, I understand. Get back to your damn chess game and I'll get back to reading this dissertation on Klingon physiology."

"Alright then." Kirk replied, and bit his bottom lip to focus on beating his friend in what he assumed was a game he had already lost. A few minutes later, that thought came to fruition as he lost with three pieces left of his color, all of Spock's pieces perfectly aligned in an impossibly logical version of checkmate.

"Bones, explain to me how I loose every single time." He picked up his king with his left hand and clenched it tightly, while Spock smirked at him and reset the board, as Kirk had promised him as many games of chess as it took until he won, and Spock rarely got to expose how flawed his friend's planning was like this at his own pleasure. It delighted him.

But, if to ruin his fun, a knock came on the cabin door, and after shouts of "Who's there?" "Sulu" "Come in", they were all actively listening to the now Captain of the Enterprise, who seemed a bit confused.

"Gentlemen, the ship has stopped tailing us."

"Thank God!' McCoy said.

"But," Sulu continued, and McCoy rolled his eyes, "We ended up intercepting a distress call from a nearby ship, and we'll have to deal with their issues first, then head back to a Starbase because something is wrong with the dilithium crystal chamber. Again. So your vacation has been delayed indefinitely. You're welcome to stay on board, but we're near Klingon and I figured you three may want to go see history in the making with that whole Klingon peace treaty being signed and all."

"See Captain Joanna and my boy in action? Most definitely." Kirk enthused, and shot a happy smile at McCoy. He, unlike his best friend, was not exactly enthralled by this new captain, but she wrote an excellent dissertation, and if the Klingons were as open about their medical practices as she seemed to indicate, he could benefit from the visit.

"I wouldn't mind it, Jim. Just to see my godson in action, I'll go to Klingon and see the damn peace treaty being signed by Ambassador Chekov and the Klingon Emperor-"

"There has not been an Emperor on Klingon in almost two centuries. The Chancellor will be signing it."Spock corrected, and after a moment added, "I think it would be a wonderful thing to see peace at least being attempted on Klingon. Vulcan Nina will wait."

"I think that means, Sulu, that you can get us a shuttle and call us happy men." Kirk grinned. After Sulu had left and Spock had gotten up to begin packing his things, he enthused, "It'll be an adventure, gentlemen. Just wait til you meet her – an auburn beauty who doesn't take any shit from anyone."

"Jim."

"Yes Bones."

"You know I hate redheads. My ex-wife was one."

"She's a brunette. Go pack."


	3. Or Maybe It's Just Fate

(Now hang in there with me, I'm going to be tying everything together this chapter. Again, own nothing, etc.)

Three days. She'd been captain of a new, shiny starship for three days and she already felt like pulling out some of her martial arts training and harming several of her new officers. Especially that new Ensign Kirk. He was getting on her last nerve and it had only been three days. When they'd first met, she'd saved him from her agitated first officer because from the reports she had read said he would prove useful.

So far, he'd given her six headaches, a broken toe and a bragging first officer. So far, it had not been worth the ass kissing that she'd done to get him onto her ship, along with the griping she'd endured from the first officer who she used to call her best friend. Right now, he was acting like he wished to have a swift kick up his ass directly back to Betazed. But, as she would never actually harm him, she sat on her bed in prayer position, thinking about Kirk.

He, an arrogant young pup of nineteen, was considered a prime candidate for being a major officer in Starfleet one day; instead he had chosen the science track. She had sympathized with him – it was hard deciding whether to follow your passions or follow what you know you'll be good at. It's why she'd gotten her medical license before going on the command track. Even if he enjoyed science, it was easy enough to switch to command if you showed enough leadership ability. Instead, he had tripped her, almost pushed Ambassador Chekov over a railing in Engineering, and infuriated Commander Gignac so much that he had actually wrote her a letter informing her about the Ensign to put in a file about him when the got back to Starfleet.

She might just kill both her first officer and the ensign, and then her problems would be solved. But killing people for no reason except for annoyance was just not logical. Although it would be quite fun and give her great glee, she couldn't do it without getting thrown out of Starfleet. She would just have to settle for keeping them as far apart as possible.

Then the Lieutenant at the helm came over the intercom, "Captain?"

It had been three days on this ship, and David already felt like this was a bad idea. He should have put in for a transfer like his gut had told him, not stuck it out with the new captain because he felt like he had a tactical advantage of starting fresh. Instead, he'd already ran into the captain with his abnormally large feet because he was excited about the captures of Klingon he'd been transmitted and wanted to show her. He'd bumped into Ambassador Chekov while trying to find another ensign and almost sent him over the railing onto another deck. It wasn't his fault he was heavier when running then the ambassador, and he'd apologized. But still, that Commander Taggart Gignac was on his ass every single morning, every single minute of the day, and even his quarters were across from Kirk's, so he could make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

Probably, the quarters thing was because David had a small, comfortable room with two neighbors that were loud and also ensigns, and Taggart had a larger room with no neighbors to distract him from doing work, and it was how every high officer's chambers had been built on this ship except for the captain's. Then again, the captain always seemed to be near the Ambassador's quarters, talking to Chekov.

Laughing with Chekov.

Telling Chekov not to piss off the Chancellor too bad with his Klingon pronunciations.

It was sickening. He was on to them. And Gignac was on to him. Therefore, he'd be confined to his quarters today in hopes that he wouldn't injure another person, and if he went a full day without hurting or messing up anything, he would be let back out.

He hated that Betazoid so much, and it was unfair because Betazoids were supposed to use their powers for good, not for groping in his emotional complexities and deciding he had anxiety issues, then telling the ship's doctor to look at him. Also, they weren't supposed to double duty as the ship's counselor and tell him to take a day off.

He could really do with a little slack.

Then there was a knock at his door, "Ensign Kirk?" He went to the door to find the Captain in her uniform, that yellow shirt clinging tightly. A throat was cleared and he realized Taggart was there, the bastard. Rounding out the three of them was Chekov, who seemed happy enough. Chekov had known him since he was a baby, and thought it was kind of funny that he'd almost fallen over. As he had commented, 'It wouldn't have been the first time I fell down hard'. "Can you come with us? I didn't know you were confined to your quarters, but you must join the greeting party."

Before he could say no, his interest was piqued. "Greeting party?"

Kirk thought maybe he could kill Spock in his sleep. It had been three full days on this tiny shuttle and all Spock wanted to do was play chess. Every minute of every day, he wanted to play chess. Kirk realized that it wasn't about letting him learn strategy anymore, it was purely the fact that Kirk lost every single time that kept Spock going. Hell, even McCoy had played Spock when he felt the need, and he beat Spock twice. Twice.

It made him want to murder Spock.

On the other hand, Spock was the one leading the shuttle to what the other two hoped was Klingon, so he couldn't kill them until they got there. But, they were going to Klingon, which meant that someone would be glad to take him up on the offer to eliminate the skinny, annoying Vulcan who would get in trouble anyway because of his constant correcting.

"Jim. Jim. Jiiim. James. James Kirk. Jim." It roused him from the thoughts about killing Spock he had when Bones sat next to him, talking directly into his ear.

"Yes, Bones, I heard you the first time. What?"

"We're going on the Serenity."

"We're doing what?"

"Well, as you were gazing dolefully at the back of Spock's head, and he's navigating, I received a transmission from the USS Serenity, asking us who we were. I explained, and they've invited us to join them on their peace mission instead of just meeting up on Klingon. Spock's directing us towards their ship now."

Kirk grinned that devil-may-care, warning smile that Bones knew all too well. The pout he'd had on his face for most of the day evaporated, and he slid into the seat next to Spock, spotting the shiny new ship and beaming. "Take us in, Spock. We're going to see the most magnificent crew ever."

"Jim, you're just saying that because your son's on the ship."

"Not just, Bones. Not just."


	4. Fate Puts Us In These Situations

(Don't own the characters, only the plot, etc. Thanks for reading :)

"Now Ensign Kirk," the Captain began, "you are here to greet your father. The Commander will not," Taggart groaned, " will not inform your father of his feelings of your emotional instability, as you are still a teenager. You will give your father and his friends a tour with the Commander, who will be cordial and kind to everyone on that tour. Then you will return to your normal duties. Do you understand?"

David grinned as Taggart rolled his eyes at the younger man. "Completley."

"Wonderful. And Commander? Let's remember that just because you read people's minds doesn't mean you should let their thoughts inspire you to act. You were offered this position because of my trust in your abilities as a person, not for your ability to read people's thoughts. And sometimes that isn't your place."

Taggart groaned as Chekov chuckled, and the four moved down the hallway towards the shuttle bay with ease, Joanna in front, Chekov and David side by side in the middle, Taggart storming along behind them. Before she could ask, he mumbled, "Docking Bay 7." They continued on their way, Chekov bumping into David a few times and raising his eyebrows. His father and Ambassador Chekov hadn't been the best of friends, but he knew Chekov well enough to know he was joking in some form, and laughed when Joanna stopped abruptly and Chekov ran into her, knocking her over a bit. After picking herself off the ground, she laughed while she adjusted her shirt, then moved to Chekov's.

"You nervous, Kirk?" She goaded as she adjusted Chekov's badge, as if it was normal for the two of them.

David laughed, "Please, Captain, Kirk is my father. I'm David."

"Well, are you nervous, David? I know you haven't gotten off to the best start, but all we're doing is going to Klingon."

"Oh, it's all we're doing, Joanna. Not like the Klingons haven't been enemies of the Federation since, oh, well, it's formation. The only reason we've gotten this far is because you had anger control issues as a child."

"At least I don't have anger control issues as a 27 year old."

David, thoroughly confused, just assumed this was a natural conversation as Chekov seemed to be nonplussed by it, and shrugged. The shuttle bay door beeped as it opened, and David beamed as the three men who always had something going on approached him.

As the shuttle bay's doors were opening, Kirk nudged Spock in the ribs. "You excited?"

"About what?" the Vulcan inquired.

"About meeting Captain Joanna and seeing the way this baby flies."

"I see no reason to be excited about meeting someone I already know, Jim. It's illogical."

"You know her?"

"Almost her whole life, yes. She was raised on Vulcan."

"Raised on Vulcan, eh?"McCoy interjected, turning towards the Vulcan "So she's just as big of a giant Vulcan pain in the ass as you are then?"

"Actually, Doctor McCoy, she's not that big of a pain in the ass." warbled a cheerfully Russian voice, and McCoy turned around to a group of four people standing on the other side of the shuttle bay door. The one in the front was the shortest, a brunette who could be taken passably for a redhead with a yellow shirt, black pants and the most perfect posture he'd ever seen. It looked like she had little, if any make-up on, and fierce hazel eyes that were cutting into him. They looked familiar but at the same strange on the face with a round chin and a smile that said 'Welcome' and 'Go to hell' at the same time. Behind her to her left was that ingenious Russian, a little older and his hair a little longer, looking quite amused. Behind her was a tall, dark haired and black eyed man, looking a bit confused and upset with his brow wrinkled like he was reading something. Finally, to her right, was a smiling, skinny, blond version of his best friend, who looked like he'd just saved the day or found the cure for cancer or something. Or was in serious trouble.

"I'm also a regular old human. From Earth. Actually, Kentucky. But I don't really remember it." said the brunette, smiling at the doctor. "You must be Doctor McCoy. Captain Kirk, it's nice to see you again. I'm Captain Joanna."

"Joanna what?" McCoy said without thinking, and everyone around him chuckled. "What? Is it common knowledge?"

"No, it isn't. It's actually becoming an myth, I think, what it is. I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was three, so when my grandfather sent me to the Vulcan colony, they asked me what I preferred to be called and I said Joanna. Once I got to Starfleet, I ended up just going by it because, well... People thought I was someone I'm not. Or, at least I think I'm not."

"Well that's logical." McCoy joked, and she nodded brightly.

"Admiral Kirk, Doctor McCoy, Ambassador Spock, welcome aboard the USS Serenity. You know who I am now, and I assume you know this one," she elbowed Chekov, and he smiled widely, "and that one," she nodded at David, "but for appearances sake, this is Ambassador Chekov, Ensign David Kirk and the pouting one behind me is my first officer, Commander Taggart Gignac. Ignore his thought, he's a Betazoid and sometimes he hears thoughts before speaking or looking normal."

"Betazoid? Interesting." McCoy said, and the dark haired man smiled what seemed to be genuinely at the doctor.

"She wanted a strange crew. She got one." they all snickered, and she grinned widely.

"Anyway, Ensign Kirk is willing to give you a tour of our fine ship if you want one."

"That would be wonderful!" Kirk enthused, and McCoy and Kirk went towards the Ensign while Joanna went towards Spock. "Coming, Spock?"

"I'll be along in a minute." the Vulcan replied.

As the others grouped up and Taggart ventured back to the bridge, Joanna and Spock stood right outside of the shuttle bay.

"Live long and prosper, Joanna." He saluted her.

"I missed you too, Spock." She walked closer to him, and he opened his arms. "Do you like her?"

"The ship or you?"

"The ship!"

"She is highly satisfactory. You, you are highly satisfactory as well, Joanna. I am … proud of you."

Her face lit up. "You should get to joinining that tour. Ensign Kirk can be a little … enthusiastic."

"I know. Are you coming along, Joanna?"

"No, I was in the middle of something when I was told you were here.. Send Chekov after you go to Engineering."

"What?"

"It will make sense when you get there, I promise." She started back towards her chambers. "And Spock?"

"Yes, Joanna?"

"Thank you for coming."


	5. It Welcomes Us With Open Arms

(So I suppose you all are enjoying the story and reading it because of all the traffic, but if not, don't feel bad and message me and tell me what i'm doing wrong. I know my grammar's been pretty off lately, but I've been really tired. If you haven't noticed, thanks for reading! Most of this is canon, and I don't own these people, etc. I am also very surprised at how consistent I am with these chapter-ettes. Also, if you have a tumblr, message me if you want to have mine!)

As the four men assembled in a messy group, David clasped his hands together excitedly. He remembered being younger and having his mother take him onto the Enterprise and getting the full tour, from bottom to top, and how cool he thought all the equipment was. Perhaps it was because it was his ship, perhaps it was because he was showing his father, godfather, and surrogate uncle around. Chekov was tagging along for fun, namely because the only things he did was work on his Klingon with the Captain and bop around the ship, occasionally taking over the helmsman's position during late night shifts or teaching the communication officers Russian. It was hilarious to see them try to speak Russian, especially when Chekov was around.

"Well, gentlemen, welcome to the USS Serenity. I'm Science Officer Ensign David Kirk, originally from Earth. I speak two languages and supervise the astrophysics portions of our scientific studies, but when we reach Klingon I will be assisting the Captain in her research about the Klingon anatomy and physiology. I have the position of a Lieutenant, which is why I'll be aiding the Captain with the research instead of focusing on my own; she couldn't find a satisfactory astrophysicist or assistant, so she combined an enlisted position and lieutenant position and found two Ensigns to aid her." His smirk said that he knew he was special, and was proud of his position. He continued, "We're currently on A Deck, so we'll be going as far down as you want, then back up to meet with the Captain about her plans for what will be going on Klingon once we arrive. Your rooms are on D Deck,"

"D Deck? Why are we on D Deck? Isn't that where the senior officers' quarters are?"

"It is, but our B, C and D Decks are quite a bit larger than those on the Enterprise, so we have the capacity to lodge … higher ranked visitors to the Serenity there along with the senior officers. They don't mind."

"They're quite nice, actually." Chekov chimed in.

"Your stuff will be in your rooms when you arrive – they're laid out exactly like a senior officer's quarters. Shall we?" He motioned towards the lift, and the four stepped on. "The Serenity is very similar to the Enterprise, so when I know there's a change in the decks, I'll mention it. I think you'll find F Deck the most interesting" The lift started and he hit the button easily. "I've always wanted to do that."

"Do what?"

"Find something interesting and get to show it to you."

"Well aren't you precious?" McCoy joked, and David blushed.

"Anyway, B Deck," he said as they started, "is the main briefing room, Captain's Ready Room, and Executive Officer's Office. C Deck is the same, with Officer's Lounge and the Kitchen. D Deck, where you'll be spending most of your time, are the Senior Officers' and high ranking visitors' quarters. The computer and high energy physics labs are also located on this deck, but near the core. The senior officers quarters are every other with the visitors' quarters, so you'll find yourselves inter dispersed. E Deck is, of course, the mess halls and the officer's quarters. And here," he enthused as they stopped, is the F Deck."

The F Deck opened to a observation deck of open space, and it was like looking clearly out, without glass or plastic. It was breathtaking, and the silence as they all exited the lifts went on for about a minute as they acclimated themselves. To their left and rights were mess halls with observation windows, and there were chambers inter dispersed with two other mess halls on each side. "I live on this deck. Every day I get to see this when I'm going to work, and I think I'm lucky. Maybe one day I'll get tired of it, but I love it now. But this isn't what I wanted to show you."

"I could stand being here for a while." commented McCoy, and the group of men laughed as they followed David.

"It's about lunch, so if you want something to eat, we can come here and eat later. Obviously some people have already checked in for lunch." they walked by a group of people with a flurry of different shirt colors – blue, red, green – all discussing something in elevated voices. "It's kind of neat how they mixed all of the cabins and stuff, so we're all rooming with new people, in new bunks. But this, this is what I wanted to show you." They stood in front of what seemed to be a ballroom extending in front of the Forward Observation Lounge. It was elegant, sort of like a castle or a old estate, the platform being elevated so that a large group of people could see them clearly from the ballroom floor.

"What is it?" Spock inquired.

"Well, since the Captain seems to think we'll be going on a lot of peace signing missions and stuff, she took out the bowling alley and moved the firing range to U Deck. It's a ballroom, and when they sign the peace treaty, they'll sign in both on Klingon and here. There's a rumor that they'll be transported directly from where they sign it on Klingon here, but I think it's just a rumor."

"Don't you think they can do it?" the older Kirk asked, "Beam them from the planet to the middle of a flat room?"

"Personally, I think it's too risky for them to attempt with such high profile people. Maybe one day in the future, when we resign it or edit it, but not today." They perused around for a bit, then got back on the lift. They skimmed over sickbay, as they would return, and went instead to engineering, where they showed them the hull locks and various labs, and met the Chief Engineering officer, who was swearing at someone very loudly.

"That would be Vaasarin. Warning you ahead of time, he's a Tellarite. Nasty tempers they have."

"KIRK? IS THAT YOU I HEAR? I TOLD YOU TO STAY OFF MY DECK UNLESS YOU'RE GOING TO THAT LAB OF YOURS!" The voice was gruff and low pitched, but sounded like it was right in their ears.

"I'm giving a tour, Vaasarin. I'll be out of your hair in two, three minutes tops. I was just sharing with our guests the amusing story about how Ambassador Chekov almost died yesterday."

"Guests?" A head popped out from behind a doorway, and the nostrils of the Tellarite man flared. "Well I guess I should introduce myself. Chief Engineer Vaasarin, you are?"

"Doctor Leonard McCoy."

"Ambassador Spock."

"And I am Admiral James T. Kirk."

The Tellaride snorted, "I suppose you're related to that one, then."

"Yes, I'm his father."

"Well then, father Admiral James T. Kirk, please remind your son that he should NOT BE IN THE ENGINEERING AREAS IF HE DOESN'T NEED SOMETHING next time. Your Ambassador Chekov was one lucky guy."

"Trust me," Chekov laughed, "as soon as I saw him coming I should have cleared a path. Joanna warned me he was a klutz."

"Klutzy? My son?" Kirk said, and the Tellarite and Russian burst into laughter, while the younger Kirk turned red.

"I may have broken one of the Captain's toes while running to show her some pictures of Klingon. I also may have tried to brace myself on the handrail while running to get to the Biophysics lab and Ambassador Chekov may have become my handrail." The other two humans erupted in chuckles of their own.

"Were you alright?" the Vulcan asked

"It was funny after I had gotten back on this side the rail." Chekov added.

"It seems dangerous."

"I took it as my physical for the year – I passed."

"Well, Kirk, if you're done interrupting me, I've got to go talk to an Andorrian about dilithium crystals. And remember -"

"Stay away from your engineering rooms. I've got it, sir. Shall we proceed to the astrophysics lab, or do you wish to see the main bridge?"

"I would like to see the main bridge, as Captain Joanna requested Ambassador Chekov's presence there after we came here, I assume because she thought the story would be funnier if he was here."

"She does meditate before lunch, then lets the Commander eat, so she probably wants to speak to you about her mission." Chekov said, "I think we'd make fine time if we headed back now. She'll probably show us around her ready room and then take us to lunch."

"That sounds like a splendid idea. I'm starved," McCoy said, "and it's not like the rest of the ship is going anywhere. We have the rest of the day to explore."

"That is a logical schedule. Jim?"

"I'm in as well. Lead us there, son."

They got back on the lift, David hitting the main bridge button. As the lift rose, he adjusted his slightly askew shirt and badge, set a few hairs in place. Kirk adjusted his shirt, McCoy checked his teeth with his tongue, Chekov tapped his feet impatiently, and Spock watched patiently as the floors passed them by.

As the door to the main bridge opened, the viewer showed them passing stars quickly. He's right - it never gets old, Kirk thought as they walked out onto the bridge, space is always beautiful.

"Welcome to the bridge, gentlemen." A female voice greeted them, and they all thanked her. "As soon as you're finished ogling her, would you like to see my ready room?"


	6. Nature Never Makes Mistakes

(don't own, etc,etc)

Although the Serenity may have been larger, the bridge was almost the exactly layout of the one that Kirk had been used to on the Enterprise except under two side stations there were what could only be described as love seats, probably for guests or commanding officers when the Captain was on the bridge. Instead of being a clean, crisp white background too all of the walls, the bridge had tones of light gray and pastels on the panels. The chair was of course black, but the love seats were a dark heather gray, and it had a relaxed feel. The view screen was highlighted by a white frame and lights, which made it look like you were watching an old film instead of seeing space as they passed by. It was elegant, yet had a personality normally given to a starship by it's crew.

"Actually," Kirk said, "I'm quite enjoying the view on the bridge. It's spectacular."

"It is." Joanna beamed at him, getting up from her chair to face them. Her hair had been thrown into a messy braid since the last time they'd seen each other, and her smile was almost hard to look away from. "I know you've seen about seven thousand things in the past hour, gentlemen, but here's our main crew and I promise, any other people you'll meet today you'll do on your own time. Commandar Taggart went to lunch, but you already know him. Our Chief Engineer is in Engineering -"

"We've already had that pleasure," Kirk interjected, and she laughed.

"He is a tough cookie to crack, I'll give you that. But I wanted a diverse, hardworking crew. I wanted the best. I've spent two years poking my nose around, looking for the best cadets, best ensigns, best engineers, when I thought I could get my own ship. I handpicked every single crew member when they told me I'd be captaining her. Everyone has their flaws, but they're all brilliant. Even Vaarsarin. In fact, I made sure we had a Tellarite on this ship."

"Why? They hate Klingons."

She smirked, "Exactly. He called me pink skin for the first six weeks of our friendship, but once I warmed him up enough, he understood. We also have a few Andorians on our ship as well. I wanted to show the four founding races of Starfleet."

"Where are the Vulcans, then?"

"That would be Lieutenant Commander Orindele, Communications Officer." She pointed at the woman intently studying something, a hand up to wave but no eye contact, "Head Security Officer Wells is a Terran as you can see," a dirty blond male waved from next to the Vulcan, his brown eyes dancing at the sight of new people, "and Doctor Crusher's somewhere."

"Crusher?" McCoy chuckled, "They let Nathaniel Crusher out of medical school?"

She laughed, "He's been out for four years, if I recall correctly, and is one of the main people who helped me with my dissertation about Klingon anatomy and physiology. He's a know it all, but he's helpful at times."

"I would suppose so then." McCoy grudged. He just remembered the name from a failed cadaver dissection once when he'd visited the medical school inside of Starfleet Academy. He must have been twenty or twenty one then, and bright as a beet as the instructor pointed out the flaws he had made with the poor, dead pig's intestines. They'd been studying emergency medicine without a proper sickbay or equipment. The kid had used a scalpel and sliced open the pig's intestines. He had felt bad for the rest of the students – the smell was nauseating.

"Finally, this is our helmsman Pierre Canet, and our navigator Ammu Patel." The former was a pale, light brunette male who turned his head and nodded at them; the latter was a medium sized woman with short black hair that cut at the ears. She turned and smiled brightly at the group of men, then turned her attention back to her post, where she seemed to be reading someone on her viewer screen. "Now, how would you like something to drink?"

"I would love a drink." Kirk enthused, and she led them to their right side, into her ready room. It, like the bridge, had hints of gray and pastels, her chair being a charcoal and the painting on the wall a study in muted blue.

"This is my ready room. Obviously there's little in here, but mostly because it connects directly to my office, so if need something to read, I'll just venture in there. There's a replicator in my office, so we'll venture in there. The only drink I keep in my office is Klingon tea, and I don't think any of you want any of that." They continued through the room towards the door connecting it to the office.

"Have you ever drank Klingon tea, Captain?" McCoy inquired, "It's highly toxic."

"Once. It was an experience I'll never repeat, but I keep some on the ship just in case of a need for a test of courage. Klingon tea is like taking coal, burning it, taking the smoke and somehow converting it into a liquid, and leaving it to sit for about three hundred years. It was the worst taste of my life. Took three weeks of brushing my teeth three times a day to get the taste out. And here were are," she said as they all arrived in the surprisingly clean office. It, unlike it's ready room and bridge, was plain white with black and mahogany colored furniture. The desk was something similar to steel, the chair behind it with a tall back and armrests. "Sit down, please. What would you like to drink? Besides Pavel, I know what you'll be having."

"Coffee, two sugars." requested Kirk.

"Tea with honey, thank you." Spock said.

"Whiskey." McCoy said.

"I'd just like some water." David admitted, and his captain smiled at him. David was obviously not comfortable around her yet, but it was just because he was so enthusiastic. At least he cared, she mused, and moved to replicate all of the drinks.

After a few minutes of her messing with the thing, she handed the men their drinks, Chekov ending up with a water with lime and she had seltzer water with a straw.

"So, gentlemen, I suppose you're wondering how I've been able to get through to the Klingons when I am not one and am also a member of Starfleet. I've also taken the liberty of thinking that besides Admiral Kirk and Ambassador Chekov, you don't know me personally or my life story, so I'll lay it out for you. I was born on the first day of the first month of the year 2256 to my mother – I was five weeks late; my parents were already divorced by then. My mother, who's got a bit of a nasty temper, had divorced my father before she found out she was pregnant, and even though I now own my birth certificate, I've just never felt the need to learn his identity. It's somewhat of a silly thing to do, but I just … I don't see a point." She paused, taking a sip of her drink, "Then my mother died when I was three – she had been walking and some idiot with his vintage car struck her and left her there. I was at my grandfather's -the father of my mother- home, and he took me in for a little while. After realizing that I was advanced in learning, he sent me to Vulcan Nina on a Starfleet cruiser to see if I could test into their school. Spock Prime was on that ship, and sort of decided to make my case a charitable one. He became a uncle figure to me, and I started my education on Vulcan."

"Then at seven,I lost my grandfather, who'd I'd gone back to visit every year after that – he was quite temper could not be contained anymore, and Spock Prime got in touch with Ambassador Spock to see what I could do about it. Spock suggested that I learn moQ'bara, but no one on Vulcan knew it. So I went to Klingon."

"You lived on Klingon?" McCoy wondered aloud.

"Yes. I trained under the current Chancellor; it helped me control the emotions I had, for which I'd been teased for mercilessly on Vulcan. I also adopted their religion, even if religion is nonsensical, and became a happier person. The rest, is, as you say, history."

"So the reason you were able to negotiate is because you had a temper as a child?" Kirk snorted.

"Correct, Admiral. It's silly that's the only reason why, but I think it's for a reason. Everything happens for a reason." A silence hung in the air for a few seconds, and a stomach growled with hunger. "Lunch, gentlemen?"


	7. The Magic's In Our Makeup

(Don't own, etc. I know it feels like most of these are fillers, but everything is integral to the plot, I swear. Or at least, I think so.)

After they'd left her office,the ride down to the mess hall was quiet on the lift. The six got off the elevator on the F Deck, Chekov and Joanna first, the former poking the latter in her stomach. She shot him a glare and he chuckled; the other four hanging back behind them. Chekov and Joanna made conversation as they headed towards a mess hall, soft enough that the others couldn't hear it, but loud enough to tell that they were talking to each other, engaged in a conversation both found amusing. The two led them to the observation mess hall in the middle of the deck on the left side. The kitchen staff had laid out what looked like tacos, even though it looked like it had variants of meat from Tellar, Andoria, and Earth. The shells varied in types too, but mostly stuck with the familiar round shape.

"They spoil me." Joanna laughed as she picked up a hard corn shell and putting it on her plate. "I told them I wanted tacos and the replicator wasn't making them right, and I get tacos two days later."

"But who could say no to you, Joanna?" Chekov said, and she rolled her eyes at him as he picked up a shell made out of a harder Andorian bread.

"A lot of people, surprisingly." She turned to the rest of the group, who were examining the breads on the table. "Now y'all don't have to sit with us – we'll probably bore you anyway."

"What if we want to?" asked Kirk, and all he got was a smile.

"Do what you want, then." She and Chekov both added meat – she a harder variant of lamb from Tellar, he regular beef from Earth – and headed towards the dessert area in sync, yet not talking.

"Do the two of them always do that, David?" his father asked, and David rolled his eyes as he poked at some interesting looking Andorian meat.

"Yes. I swear, if they were closer, they'd be the same person. They met when she wanted to learn Russian, and he was the Operations officer on her first ship. She was sixteen, I think, and he was thirty. They do everything together."

"She speaks Russian?" Spock asked tenatively. "I know she speaks Vulcan, Klingon, three dialects of Romulan, and a bit of Ferengi, but I thought she limited herself to English and Creole as her Terran languages."

"It's been a while since she's spoken with you then, I suppose. She's learned all of the archaic Terran Romance languages, along with Russian. A lot of the books in her library in her office are in Terran languages; I think she wants to learn every language there is."

"She's a linguist at heart. Uhura told me that she ventured into learning the last three dialects of Romulan, but that was because she was interested in visiting the empire."

McCoy snorted, "Fat chance at that. The last Terran to enter the Empire and come out alive had an armed escort."

"She realized how unrealistic it was when she met with an Ambassador who told her in so many words that Romulus and it's Empire would never fully cooperate with the Federation. I suppose Russian was her substitute."

"I guess so, then." McCoy replied, and forked more pulled pork onto his plate. "Spock?"

"Yes?"

"Is it just the way Vulcans learn that allows the brain to have room for all of that knowledge, or is she just an abnormality?"

"No, Doctor. You know humans tend to use only 10-15% of their brains. She opened her mind, and it got her further. It's not just a Vulcan 'thing'."

"I suppose not. Shall we sit with her brilliance and the whiz, or shall we venture out into territories unknown, then?" McCoy questioned the rest of the men, and Kirk shrugged.

"Most of my friends have already eaten lunch, so why not?" They dispersed to the dessert table, and then meandered through the crowd to find the Captain and Ambassador. Chekov was pointing at her with what appeared to be a churro, and she had her head thrown back in laughter as his grin was wide with glee. Their table was on an elevated platform, and rectangular and flat. The pastel and gray theme had not been lost in this room, as the chairs varied from yellows and pinks to blues and greens. The two of them sat facing the rest of the mess hall, their backs to the full observation deck, yet had a side glimpse of the window to space. The men approached the table, with two seats empty next to the other two, they sat facing the large glass window, David and Spock on the outside, McCoy sitting across from Chekov and Kirk across from Joanna. She smiled at them, and started picking at a small piece of what looked like blood pie.

"What is that?" Kirk asked flatly, and she looked at it, "It looks like Targ filling on a pie."

Joanna laughed as she stabbed the harmless dessert with a fork, "Don't worry, it's not Rokeg. I asked the quartermaster to not set out Klingon dishes until we get there – most people's stomachs can only take so much. I think, if I'm correct, that it's Andorian raspberry pie. There are quite dark though, aren't they?" She clipped off a forkful and ate it neatly. "They're very sweet though. Like eating cane sugar."

"That sounds disgusting." David said, making a face.

"It is." She stuck her tongue out, red from the berries' juices. The conversation then went to the grossest foods they had ever eaten, and everyone at the table seemed to have bad experiences with food, though Spock's experience with snake meat seemed to be the most disgusting out of all of them. They then turned to strange animals, and pleasantly talked through the meal until someone plopped next to Joanna.

"Captain, I have some news." said a young looking man with distinct facial ridges.

She sat down her fork and gave the young man a look of extreme interest,"About what, Lieutenant?"

"About that disease you gave me to dissect. I think I've found a way to heal it quickly instead of giving the patients pain medications and anti-bacterials. I'm running it by Doctor Crusher after lunch, but I didn't want to gross him out with the wounds before a meal."

"Wonderful. If you get this right, I think we may have found another reason for the Klingons to be interested in negotiations." Her smile was wide at him, and he looked down, blushing. "How are you liking the tacos?"

"I find them fascinating. You were right, I enjoy them a lot more than yesterday's noodles, but I can't decide whether I like the crunchy ones more than the soft ones."

"Perhaps it's because its your first time eating them. First time I eat something I like, the possibilities seem endless." She glanced back at the table, and smacked her forehead. "Oh, where are my manners? Borkka, these are visitors who intend to help us with our treaty. Admiral James T. Kirk," she nodded at Kirk, " Ambassador Spock," she pointed at Spock, "and Doctor Leonard McCoy, this is Lieutenant Borkka. He's a Denobulan, and our ship's pathologist. He specializes in infections leading to deadly diseases, and is helping me out with a cure for a type of virus that Klingons experience after childbirth. It's like postpartum depression but for the body, all sorts of bruises and welts appear. If we cure it, it'll be a miracle."

"Sounds like a big undertaking." McCoy commented, and the Denoublan shook his head.

"I think it's a strain of influenza like the ancient human papillomavirus, but the vaccine doesn't work on Klingons. It's a nasty bugger but I think we've nailed it."

"Interesting. Can I see your research?"

"Gladly! Most people think older diseases are all cured and that old ways to cure them are idiotic, but I beg to differ."

They wrapped up their meal talking to the cheerful Denoublan, who then walked McCoy down to the Sickbay. David, interested in finishing an experiment that had been put on hold by his Chekov and Joanna got up to clear their plates, then returned to the mostly finished Kirk and Spock.

"Would you two want to join us for a game of chess? Pavel's been trying to beat me, but he has no such luck."

"Only because you cheat."

"I do not, you just over plan your moves."

"Again, you cheat."

"Anyway, do you want to?"

Kirk shook his head furiously, and Spock cracked a grin at that. "If I never see another chess board again, it'll be too soon."

"I have a feeling there's a story behind that, but I won't press it. We should arrive at Qo'noS around 1700 hours, so I daresay we'll be dining with Klingons. Don't worry, there's pretty neat eaters." She and Chekov turned to start their game, "As long as you avoid touching their plates!" The two of them laughed as they walked out of the mess area.

"Spock, did you hear her say 'y'all'?"

"Yes, Jim. She says it when she gets excited, she always has."

"She reminds me of someone we know. A toned down version, but someone." Spock shrugged. "Do you know who her father is?"

"No, but since she refuses to inquire about it, I find it logical not to talk her into forcing herself to find out."

Kirk nodded his head in agreement, and the two got up from the table to remove their garbage. As they exited the mess hall, Kirk stopped. "What do you want to do now, Spock?"

"Well," Spock said slyly, "I was going to ask if you wanted another round of our chess tournament, but obviously you don't." Kirk huffed out, upset by the mention of his failure at the elementary game, and Spock chuckled. "We could peruse the decks, but I feel like that might lead to trouble."

"Since when do we get in trouble just walking around?"

"Every time we seem to have nothing to do and walk around, we get in trouble. Well, you do. I try to talk you out of it."

"What about going for a swim then?"

"I do not have a suit, Jim."

"I'm sure they stock them, and besides, it'll be good for your health. You never do anything adventurous."

"Swimming is what you consider an adventurous activity?" Spock raised an eyebrow at his friend.

"It's something we don't do often. Look, I think this pool is a fresh water pool anyway, you won't have to worry about that nasty chlorine smell."

Spock sighed, "I suppose so. Then there's a reason for me to take a long shower once we return to our quarters."


	8. Habits We Cannot Change

(So, because I had originally intended for this story to remain T, when I wrote an M chapter, I posted it as a separate story. I'll be doing this for those of you who aren't comfortable with M material, but if you want to read it here the link (.net/s/6523317/1/Asides_In_The_Dark). It belongs between the last chapter and this one.)

Within the span of a few hours, Spock and Kirk had a wonderful time at the swimming pool, McCoy learned more about Klingon anatomy then he'd ever wanted to, and David enjoyed doing his work. However, not all was hunky-dory aboard the USS Serenity; in fact, it was far from the serenity that the ship was named for. Where is the captain, thought Lieutenant Commander Orindele impatiently as she sat at her desk, tapping her nails. She needed to speak with the captain, but didn't want to alarm Commander Gignac into freaking out. Besides, the transmission was addressed to a member of Starfleet who was captain or higher, and telling Commander Gignac would break the code.

But, she conceeded, she had received and decoded the transmission an hour and a half ago, and though the Captain had stayed up all night on the bridge, if she didn't return soon, Orindele would be forced to act. This was urgent information, and it was only logical that they act soon or … Well, it wasn't logical to speculate, but without her knowledge, they may have issues once they reached Klingon. They were going under Warp One, but she still knew they'd make it on time – the Captain had been precise with her calculations – and she didn't want them walking into a conflict. Or worse, a trap.

"Commander." She turned from her station to face Gignac, who was talking with the helmsman about something. Unlike most of the crew, she had learned how to think around Gignac, to mask her real thoughts, knowing that it frustrated him.

"Yes, Lieutenant Commander?"

"May I go attend to something? It shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

He paused, his brows winding together in what was either thought or attempting to read hers. She sent the thoughts bathroom, hair in eyes, cold into the forefront of her brain, and messed with her feet a little. His eyebrows broke apart, obviously okay with her answer, "Of course." As she walked off the deck, he felt happiness and content radiate from her, but also anxiety and worry, which he had been feeling on and off for an hour. Though Vulcans didn't feel in the same way that Terrans and Betazoids did, thoughts could equal out as emotions, even if they were too fast to catch. He turned back to Helmsman Canet and continued his conversation about how they were to land on Qo'noS when the time came.

While the Lieutenant Commander began her search, her fellow Vulcan and his best friend were returning to the floor their chambers were on, clothes on one arm, towels around their waists. Kirk had an alarmingly large grin on his face, while Spock remained stoic as they discussed what they were to do on Qo'noS if Captain Joanna didn't need their help. Their ride up the lift from U Deck to D Deck took longer than anticipated, with several stops and uncomfortable looks from crew members, both confused, amused, and a few interested glances from crew members of both genders. As they reached their destination, they were alone on their lift and the floor also looked deserted.

"How are we supposed to find our rooms?" Kirk huffed. Although he enjoyed the swimming a lot, he hadn't come onto the ship to swim and lounge about, even though every time he saw Spock near water it made him laugh. Unlike Kirk, Spock stood in the water placidly, his hands hovering above the surface, a complacent look on his face. Kirk, on the other hand, splashed around, did laps, smiled at the women who hovered around the deck, taking in the artificial light as if it was light from a sun. But Spock had ended up pruning, and a shower sounded wonderful now.

"It would be logical to find Captain Joanna and ask her. Or perhaps the computer on this level would be able to tell us." Kirk shrugged in agreement, and Spock cleared his throat. "Computer, locate our rooms."

But before the computer could respond, the lift opened again, and Kirk clutched at his towel for a second, before knowing consciously what he was doing, and both of their heads towards the lift. Their panic was for no reason, as the already introduced Lieutenant Commander Orindele stood in front of them.

"Admiral, Ambassador. Have you seen Captain Joanna?"

"No, but finding her would be quite helpful."

"Computer, voice recognition Lieutenant Commander Orindele." It chirped its compliance, and she continued, "What is the current location of Captain Joanna?"

"Captain Joanna is currently in her quarters."

"Thank you." she then turned to the two men, who were still half dressed. "Do you require assistance with something?"

"Well, we need to find our quarters. We went for a swim in the pool downstairs."

Orindele nodded her head in understanding, "I suppose the captain will know where you are quartered." She strode towards the door closed to the doorway of the lift, and knocked on it. "Captain, it's Lieutenant Commander Orindele. Open up please, I have information for you."

But instead of the captain opening the door, it was Ambassador Chekov, who looked quite smug and his clothes were slightly skewed. "She's getting into her formal attire right now, Lieutenant Commander, but come in." His eyes flicked to the two men in towels and laughed, "Do you need some help, gentlemen?"

"Yes, we'd like to find our rooms, if you wouldn't mind."

"Come in, come in. Joanna'll know how to ask the computer."

As Chekov let them in, Joanna was standing in front of her mirror, adjusting her formal collar with her rank on her neck, her warm gold shirt unbuttoned in the back, but a tank top under it kept anything from being too inappropriate. Instead of the pants they had seen her in earlier, her skirt was of a bell sort and was regulation black and hit an inch or so above the knee. "Pavel, can you zip me up, please?"

"You have visitors." He said as he walked over and complied, and she turned her head to look at the two men and one woman as he zipped her shirt up.

"Oh, hello. How may I help you?"

"Hers seems more important, so she can go first." Kirk said, his arms crossed, his clothes getting slightly wrinkled.

"Captain, it's confidential or I would have told Commander Gignac..." she paused and looked at the Admiral and Ambassador.

"It's okay, they're all my superiors, you may tell all of us. Then Admiral Kirk will explain why he does not have a shirt on." She smiled a quick smile as she flexed her back and the zipper slipped seamlessly into her shirt.

"Well, Captain, I was monitoring the frequencies and Captain Sulu of the USS Enterprise sent us a transmission about a possible collision with an Orion ship when we reach Klingon. He said they were following him, but on the projected course they took, the ship was projected to be close to Klingon by the time we reach the planet. Although I know that the chance of an ambush is highly unlikely, the possibility of an attack by the Orion ship may be plausible. Even though you've worked so hard on this treaty, there's a logical possibility of the Klingons and Orions being in some sort of contract with each other, either with the slave trade or to attack us."

She bit her lip in concentration, and the room was silent for a minute. Though Kirk didn't know her well, he'd say her look was of despair.

"Captain, if you need assistance, I can take over-"

"No." she snapped quickly at him, her eyes a fierce green as she looked at him, her voice strong with emotion "Surprisingly, Admiral, this is not my first rodeo, so don't try to make the horse buck if it isn't." She nodded at the female Vulcan, who looked pleased that her captain was so strong willed. "Thank you Orindele, you may head back to the bridge and tell the Commander we are to going to have a conference in Briefing Room 1 in fifteen minutes. Tell him to leave you in charge and change into his formal attire." T he Vulcan nodded and left to inform her superior. She took a breath and looked back at the shocked Admiral, a smirking Spock, and a interested Chekov. Her voice came out in a drawl, as it had before, but less prominent as she had calmed down. "Now gentlemen, I intend to have a serious discussion about this, and y'all are invited to aid me, but I will make the decision about what to do. I feel the Orions are not a serious threat, but it changes plans for when we read Qo'noS. Fifteen minutes, and formal attire. I have a feeling this will take a while."


	9. Defining Us Before We Know Better

(Don't own, not mine, etc etc. )

Once someone had anger management training, it normally took a lot to get them worked up. This was not the case for Joanna, and her level of anger as she sat alone in the briefing room was higher that it had been in a very long time. It wasn't logical to be this stressed about something that, as Orindele had admitted, was mostly speculation. Klingons, as she very well knew, hadn't been involved in the slave trade ever; Terrans, who had enslaved their own species for over 2,000 years, had more of a chance of joining the Orion Syndicate than Klingons, but she still was upset. Her emotions always got the best of her, no matter how hard she tried, and even praying wouldn't do anything except tell the world how she felt. And, of course, Taggart : but then again, he probably already knew, since she was practically vibrating with anger. She hadn't been this mad since she was seven and the Vulcan boy in the center next to her called her some very nasty names. She had taken her boot to his face and he ended up having to stay in the hospital for a couple of weeks. That's when Spock Prime decided she needed a little bit more of a hot blooded culture, a people not so focused on education but on pride. A lesson in humility, a way to express herself physically. She couldn't sit and study for hours on end, she had to get out. To touch and to feel things and to explore, not be cooped up in a pod where all you did was speak to a computer. Some creatures could do extraordinary things by themselves, but she thrived where she was challenged not only by the language, but by the culture, by the fact the Klingon children accepted her as soon as she mastered the flips and kicks that they had issues with, her work hard but her play harder. They knew she was a force to be reckoned with, and once she had took in all she could, her return to the Vulcan colony had been easier.

But it was being challenged by Kirk that had set her off. Never, ever in her life had she been challenged by a man of his stature, and she knew his record of disobedience. He though highly of himself, and of his son, and although the thoughts were not without merit, if he thought jumping into a situation that could end up in firing on ships before they had considered all of the options, he had another think coming. And that's when she had to take a deep breath and close her eyes, her left hand unconsciously tapping the armrest of her chair, before releasing the breath as someone walked in. It was Taggart, his gold shirt looking a bit uncomfortable, his eyebrows woven together and his mouth in a flat line. She pulled the corners of her lips up a little bit, but he came and sat next to her. His eyes told a story she knew, and although they'd been bickering lately, sometimes she forgot that he was her best friend.

As she knew her mind had blocks in front of it, she let them go. His eyebrows relaxed, and he took in her thoughts and feelings. It was difficult for her to let go, but she felt a weight be lifted off of her shoulders. Although she was friendly with most of her crew members, both on her other ships and on her own command, she had picked Taggart because she trusted him with her life, and he knew that. They had met the same day she had met Pavel, he had come up behind her and joked about having a crush on a superior officer, and she had freaked out. He had explained that he was a Betazoid and instead of running away, like most of the other nineteen year olds on the ship had, she had invited him to talk about it. She was so accepting of him, and he had come to understand why it was so hard for her to find and keep friends. She had every single person filed in her memory, their flaws, their funny moments, and she reflected on those moments when she had let go and let herself be natural, but they were few and far between. Her friends were books, were knowledge because then people would respect her. Rarely would a Starfleet officer be respected for loving horses and 21st century teenage novels about being a princess and in love. That she'd dyed her hair darker so she wouldn't have to deal with the fierce redhead remarks that her fellow Terrans made when she was younger. That her first kiss had been an accident with Taggart when she had drunk too much Andorian ale and passed out on his bed after kissing him and then laughing so hard she'd fallen backwards onto it. That her favorite color was navy. No one had bothered on Vulcan to anything except prod her, and her friends on Klingon had always been too far away. Klingons understood her complex emotions, Vulcans understood her genius, but only he understood her. He had helped her with her friendship and eventually, when she'd fallen for him, he had encouraged her to act on her feelings. She, on the other hand, was constantly reminding him to let people surprise him, to stop reading every single thought a person had, and to not worry about everything and every one.

After a few minutes of sitting there, the door opened again and the two looked up, even though Taggart already knew who was there. Spock, in his perfectly adjusted red shirt and slightly wet hair, nodded at Joanna, who smiled back at him. Taggart nodded, and Spock came to sit on her right side, as Taggart was on her left.

"Taggart, is Vaasarin coming, or is he too preoccupied with his crystals to join us?"

"He's decided to join us because he wants to make sure his shirt is tucked correctly and that he doesn't offend anyone when we get there."

"Good. He does have that bad habit, but I think he'll get along better with the Klingons then he does with you." She smiled a little, and he chuckled, patting her right hand, which was on the table. She then turned her smile to Spock, who had been sitting calmly next to her. "Are you ready to arrive, Spock?"

He shrugged, "I have never been to Qo'noS, so I suppose it is logical to be a little excited, especially with the way you explain it. Besides that, I have no feelings of anticipation or nerves. There is nothing to be 'nervous'," he intoned his voice, "about."

"So you don't feel that the Orion ship is a threat to our mission?"

"I think it's an far fetched possibility, since Klingons have never traditionally been involved in any sort of slave trades. Also, their attachment to this treaty seems strong."

She smiled brightly at him as Kirk and McCoy stumbled in, Kirk no worse for wear but McCoy looking a little green around the gills. She had felt that way too when she'd first seen what the Klingons called the 'birthing virus', but after a while it was just a normal thing. Although, she had been eight when she first saw it, so she thought it was how babies were made. Now that she knew better, she thought it was a tad bit more gross, even if it didn't spread to males. She understood how a heterosexual male could be put off.

Also, those scabs got nasty fast.

Kirk and McCoy sat next to Spock, Kirk elbowing him and raising his eyebrows at the Vulcan, who, unlike his counterpart, hadn't bothered to dry his hair. Slowly, Chekov, Vaasarin, and a dark haired Terran who McCoy smiled at had filed in, all sitting on Taggart's side of the table.

Joanna stood up at her place at the head of the table, cleared her throat, and all of the men in the room fell silent. "In case you have not been filled in on the current situation, four days ago, Captain Sulu of the USS Enterprise reported being followed by an unidentifiable ship when heading towards the Vulcan colony to drop off Ambassador Spock and his party. Due to being stopped by a ship in distress and having the gentlemen leave his ship and join ours, they lost the ship that was tailing them. Reports following up the track of the alien ship by the Enterprise has shown that they may have been headed towards Qo'noS, or the main Klingon planet, for those of you who are unaware. Although Klingons have never been friendly towards the Orions in the past, I have been warned that this may be an attack on our vessel planned by both nations. Before I express my opinions about this incident, I would like to hear from all of you."

"I think it is illogical to pursue this tidbit of information. It is illogical that a slave ship would be able to take out a ship like the Serenity with one blast, and the peace negotiations between the Federation and Klingon have been going on for years, this being the first official treaty signed. I say it's just a coincidence." Spock said in his slightly monotone voice, the occasional lilt not stopping the expression of his opinion.

"I just don't think it's going to happen. The Orion people haven't been violent towards the Federation in a long time." Kirk said, "It's not like we're interfering with their trade on Qo'noS, and they've never traditionally been interested in trade with Klingons."

"But therein lies the rub," stated the other doctor, who sat opposite McCoy, "are we going to trust tradition, or are we going to trust ourselves? We're not peaceful with the Klingons yet, and if they do attack, we'll have to raise the shields and everything quickly."

"I concur with Crusher, captain." Vaasarin said, his palms flat on the table, his face brimming with excitement, "If those bastards attack us and we're not ready, we'll go down easily and as martyrs. I know you'd be excited to be one, but I sure as hell do not want to be remembered for dying during peace agreements like some pansy." He paused, "No offense."

"None taken." She commented, and she paused to look at Taggart, who monitored everyone in the rooms emotional levels. He urged her on, knowing what her thoughts were. "Well, gentlemen, here's our dilemma. We cannot let the Klingons know of our suspicions because then they will not sign the agreement. Trust me, I've known their Chancellor for a long time. This isn't the first stretch of our race, we're in the back stretch. We've got to trust our horse to run the race like it's been trained." McCoy cleared his throat to talk, but she kept going, "Although, I do bet every year on the underdog in the Derby, so we must be ready for this sort of attack. If we load up all of our basic weapons and nothing happens, I know one Klingon who would be intrigued to inspect our capabilities. Does this sound like an acceptable plan for all of us?" The men all nodded their heads. "Good, now lets get ready to roll if there is an attack. Vaasarin, have the crew slowly load the weapons for the Chancellor. Taggart, make sure all of the crew is dressed correctly for our approach to Qo'noS. Ambassadors, Admirals," she grinned, "Lets get ready to rumble."


	10. We Hurt Ourselves Trying To Fix It

(I attempt Klingon in this. Sorry if I butcher it. Don't own, etc.)

An hour and a half later, Joanna rotated in her chair a little bit as they entered the orbit of Qo'noS. While the longer preparation had been mostly so they wouldn't kill their dilithium crystals on their first run, it was also nerve wracking to be there. To see the planet, it's dark blue and green blobs on the viewer, she was practically out of her chair when they saw the gray blob on the side of the screen.

"Taggart, what is that?"

"I think it's an Orion vessel, but there are no emotions radiating out of it. It's just sitting there."

"Captain," Orindele chimed in from her post, "we're being hailed by the Klingon High Council."

"On screen."

As the viewer flickered and focused, she sat up straighter in her chair, her neck high, her eyes focused. To her right was Taggart, who had his focused face on, although he was a bit more relaxed, and next to him Chekov, who was tapping his foot in anticipation. On her right was Admiral Kirk, who also looked a bit anxious, and Ambassador Spock, who looked pensive and, if she knew Spock, a bit excited. And there they were – the Klingon High Council, all looking a bit anxious, but when a Klingon didn't look anxious or angry, that's when you had to be worried. They were dressed in traditional garb, their gray uniforms and their sashes tied properly, in a dark room with red and gray lighting behind them.

"Members of the High Council, thank you so much for inviting us to join with you for negotiations. Before we begin with the introductions, may I inquire about the other ship currently in your orbit?"

All of the Klingons directed their looks at the man at the head of the table, his eyes pleasant look at, his mouth was set in a hard line. "Actually, Captain, we were hoping you could explain that."

She shrugged, "Honestly, Chancellor Klitarc, I have no idea who they are. Do you wish for us to deal with them before we decide on what will go on next?"

Then the Chancellor broke into a grin, "That would be splendid, Kadi."

"Joanna." She reminded him jokingly, and he barked out a laugh. "In a few, Chancellor."

"Whatever you say." The viewer screen flickered and then cut back to the view of Qo'noS, and Joanna sat back with a smile on her face. She still sat high in her seat, but her shoulders were rounded with power, not strained with tension.

"Lieutenant, if you would hail the alien ship," she said without anger, just determination in her voice, and the Lieutenant responded in the affirmative, sending the hail.

After a few minutes of complete silence on the bridge, the viewer screen again flickered to life. The sight in front of the crew was not as pleasant, if you could even call the look of the chamber of the High Council that, as the one previous to it. What seemed to be a bad connection between the Serenity and the other ship, the screen seemed to be steeped in smoke, a half blurry man in front of them. From what she could make out, he was from Orion, with green skin and dark eyes, staring into the screen.

"HELLO." he shouted, and the crew of the Serenity all jumped a little.

"This is Captain Joanna of the USS Serenity. Identify yourself,your ship, and the nature of your mission. The planet you are currently orbiting does not wish to have you in it's rotation, and if you do not identify yourselves, you will be removed from orbit with force."

"Identify myself? I thought you already had that transmission from the Enterprise then, to tell you who we are. No? No? Guess not. I am Sar, son of Harrad-Sar, I wish to make peace with the Federation of Planets."

Joanna's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, her lips turned downwards. _What should I do?_ She thought at Taggart, and he shrugged._ I'm going to tell them that they are right to want to make peace with the Federation, but now is not the time or place to do it, and to go to the nearest Starbase._

_ That's a fine idea. We're here for the Klingons, not for the Orions. Besides, they are a shady bunch, and it seems a bit too convenient. Ask them their terms for peace and if they are envoys from the Orion government. _He thought at her, and she nodded.

"Well, Sar, son of Harrad-Sar, do you speak for your government?"

"No, I speak for my family."

"Well then, it is wonderful that your family wishes to make amends with the Federation, but due the attack on the USS Huron and other events which have robbed the Orion people of their neutrality, I shall have to ask you to leave the orbit of Qo'noS and head to the Lya Station Alpha Starbase to discuss peace negtiations, unless they are a free peace with your people. I also suggest you tell your government of your intentions, and perhaps they can take over the peace settlements and not you."

"Are you saying I am not capable of negotiating a treaty with you?"

"What I am saying, sir, is that you are interrupting a peace summit with the Klingons for no apparent reason. If you intend to attack us, I would do it now. If you truly want a peace with us, you will go to Lya Station Alpha and settle one. It's brand new, I see no reason why you should be so hesistant."

The man's eyes narrowed at her, and she knew she had hit a sore point. Taggart, also, was attempting to read what was going on in the Orion's head, but before he could do so, the communication method fizzled out and again they were left with a blank screen.

_ How strange_, she thought at Taggart.

_Curious. Very curious. What I gained from his mind is that he does not want our peace with the Klingons to be successful, and that was a method to distract us from it, knowing that we should have jumped at the offer. You did the right thing._

_ I hope so._ She thought back. "Orindele, track that ship. Make sure it gets far, far away from our settlement. I have a strange feeling about that man."

"Yes Captain."

"Also, hail the High Council again." A few seconds later, the High Council appeared on the screen. "Sorry about that, something was afoot, but we disengaged whatever sort of plot they had."

"We are grateful." said the Chancellor. "Shall you beam down now, or later?"

"Now would be wonderful." She replied, and the Chancellor nodded. "Shall you be meeting us?"

"Of course, Kadi." Her nostrils flared. "I should hate to miss your return, the prodigal daughter of Qo'noS." The communique faded, and she got up from her chair, brushing off her robe.

"Shall we, gentlemen? Orindele, you have the bridge. Wells, first officer." The two nodded in understanding. The men then followed her to the transporter room.

"Now gentlemen," she said as she was fixing Taggart's cuffs, "there are a few things that I'll remind you about Klingon culture. Firstly, they are hotheads. Secondly, they will make fun of me constantly. I am the only non-Klingon to ever successfully complete warrior training, as I did it in my spare time. They will razz you, they will say things about me that will make you blush. They will also embarrass Ambassador Chekov, so just expect that. They know us well, we've been working on this for almost three years."

"WE have." He acknowledged, standing on the transporter platform. "Can we get a move on?"

"I just .. Remember, they grew up with me, alright? I lose my temper easily around them, they torture me about my life. But we've got to go, or they'll eat without us."

"Would they?" Kirk questioned.

"Food waits for no man, woman, or child if they are late. I swear, it's a rule." As Spock, Kirk, Gignac, and Chekov stepped on the platform, she inquired, "Where is Doctor McCoy?"

Kirk shrugged, "He probably got lost. Don't worry, you aren't losing a great diplomat with old Bones. In fact, you're kind of lucky."

"Yeah, lucky." She echoed, and stepped onto the platform. "Officer, energize." She said to the officer, and he obliged. Within seconds, they were standing in the middle of the House of the High Council. "Nice." She commented, standing up a little straighter.

Within seconds, she was off the ground. "Not anymore, Kadi. Guess someone is off their game, be'Hom (small woman/short stuff)."

"mev taH, pa' 'oH Hur'Iq (stop being stupid, there are outsiders)."

"SoH 'oH, Ilj 'oH bang ghobe' Hur'Iq(you're funny; your boyfriend isn't an outsider.)"

"Qo'! jIH 'oH taH yuDHa'. (Stop! I'm being honest.)"

The large, gruff man who she had been having the conversation with then looked up, and realized his manners. "QoS (sorry)."

"Ian jIH blng (put me down)." He did. "Gentlemen, this is Chancellor Klitaric of the house of Kaas. He's a bit rowdy."

"You can say that again." said Kirk.


	11. We Hide Inside Ourselves

(Wow! Sorry it's been like three days, I got a laptop for my birthday and had homework out the ying-yang. Don't own, etc)

Joanna blushed, and Klitarc smiled, something that Kirk thought Klingons never did. The Chancellor glanced at Chekov, and the two burst out into laughter. The captain rolled her eyes, and the other two were more than terribly confused. "Excuse them, they know not what they do. Admiral Kirk, Ambassador Spock, I told you I grew up on Klingon, but I don't think you understood. I was a pretty angry young woman, and the people here realized what power I had. They taught me how to control myself, and I think it was the best lesson I've ever learned. This one here, " she motioned to Klitaric "decided to adopt me when I was ten. Technically, I'm Captain Joanna, but on Qo'noS I'm Joanna, Kadi of Kaas."

"She's so ungrateful for all the things I do for her," the Chancellor said cheekily, and she glared at him.

"You wonder why I don't invite people to come visit with me?" she said to him, and he remained smug as she straightened her shirt. "Anyway, the whole reason I got promoted to Captain was because of my excellent work with the Klingons, but I feel like I have an unfair advantage. If they say no to me, they say no to a pseudo-royal. Someone who understands their culture and knows what's actually going on as opposed to someone who comes into the room with only academic knowledge."

"She's a shark, I'll give her that. But she also knows our soft points."

"Your soft points. Now, are we going to be given food or are we going to stand here, in the middle of this hall, talking all night? If so, I can return to my ship – there's food there."

"Always so cheeky."

"Always." The Chancellor offered her his arm, and before she took it, she turned to the other men. "Remember, if you see someone with a broken clavicle, congradulate them! Also, don't hit on anyone, they get aggressive pretty quickly, and I'd rather leave tonight with all of you intact." She smiled at them and hooked arms with the tall Klingon, and the two of them dissolved into conversation none of the other could understand, walking steadily down the hall.

"What was that broken clavicle comment about? Was it a joke?" Kirk inquired as the rest of them walked down the hall in a clump, Kirk and Spock in front, Chekov and Taggart directly behind them.

"No," Chekov answered, "It wasn't at all. She gets so happy when we're here. She was saying that because it's considered rude if you don't comment on it, and if a person has a broken clavicle, it's normally a sign that they were recently married."

Kirk's eyebrows raised. "Interesting."

"Very." Spock responded. He as well as Kirk had missed the subtle hint. Unfortunately for Chekov, Taggart hadn't. It was the best kept secret of Starfleet - the relationship between Joanna and Pavel, but because he had been her best friend, he had watched them grow, even far apart. To her, the 14 year age difference was fine; to him, it was nice to have someone that never judged him, that never told him who he was. She kept him in his place, he had given her a base that she'd only had with two people ever to jump around and do what she wanted. At the beginning, Taggart had warned her it was a bad idea, but they rarely fought, and if so they came to Taggart. As her best friend, he wouldn't suck up to Chekov for bonus points and normally realized her sometimes over-emotional side took over, and he could read her clearer than he could read his own mother.

Now, he was reading Pavel. He had gotten the hint, but it was apparent that he was trying to focus on other things – like remembering names of the High Council and trade agreements before he would think about the subliminal hint that his girlfriend had dropped. Taggart refused to be completely telepathic with people that weren't in his family – he considered Joanna his sister – but he was willing to use the code that he and Pavel had set up one time in case of situations like this.

"Did you read the latest of that series you showed me, Pavel?"

He had Pavel's attention immediately. He knew that it was hard not to think about the one you loved, especially when you'd been with them for five and a half years, officially. "No, I haven't found the time to read it. Give me a synopsis, would you?"

"Well, the empress changed her mind. Again. Her loyal knight decided to stay neutral, but she's serious this time. Even her advisors know. She contacted her sage to see if he thought the match was a good idea," the sage being the aging Spock Prime, "and he said that he would be honored to attend before he died. She was even willing to leave her main plans behind to be with him. It was a cliffhanger though, that stupid writer couldn't make up his mind about whether the empress would remain silent about it or plan an ultimatum for the generous knight."

"That's rough. I do not think she communicates well enough for him to really comprehend what she wants. The writer makes her a little irrational with her expectations of the knight, and with what she thinks she communicates to him. But the sage approved of the plan?"

"The sage said if the knight didn't involve the empress soon, she might devote herself fully to her causes and leave the knight to his duties in another area of the land. Without her."

Pavel looked at Taggart, and he understood. Finally, he understood all of it. If he chose Starfleet over her by staying on Klingon and not asking Klitarc's permission, not asking her to be something more than what they already had, she would never really be the same way they were now. She'd never pressed marriage, never even asked him about it except for once or twice. He was open to it, but she said she rarely believed marriage was worth it. Maybe she had changed her mind. Or maybe it was because –

"Gentlemen, welcome to Qo'noS!" Said an brightly dressed Klingon woman, her hair in a traditional braided style, her robes of a bright red variety. "We wish for this mission to be as easy and fluid as possible. I am Tavana, wife of Kliatric, high priestess of the temple of Kahless in the First City. I already know Ambassador Chekov, but the rest of you are unfamiliar. I would like to change that."

"I am Commander Taggart Gignac, Joanna's first officer."

"You are much paler than I thought. She speaks of you when she writes to us – she says you are a Betazoid. What am I thinking?"

"That you are very hungry but haven't eaten all day because you were excited about Joanna coming back."

She smiled a little. "Good. We shall be friends."

Kirk stuck his hand out, " I'm Admiral James T. Kirk, formerly of the USS Enterprise, currently floating around space on ships, hoping to help any who wish to have my aid."

She shook it firmly. His bones popped a little, then set in for a firm shake back. Finally, it was Spock's turn.

"I am Ambassador Spock –"

"You are Spock?" The woman cut him off, "Not meaning to be rude, but you are, as we say, Joanna's guiding light. I have waited many years for the man who helped get her here to come visit the land that she loves so much. She must be excited as well. She loves you quite a lot."

If Spock could blush, he was. "I am not that significant-"

"But you are! She tells us stories of you and the Original One, how you helped raised her after her move to the Vulcan colony, of the kindness you showed her. It's remarkable."

"Say thank you, Spock." Kirk mumbled, and Spock complied.

"Well, now that we all know each other, are you ready to eat?" The men nodded. "Well, lets go inside then."

"A question before we go inside, if you wouldn't mind." Kirk stopped her with this question, and she turned around.

"Anything."

"Why does Klitaric call her Kadi?"

She smiled, "When we were younger, he could never get Joanna McCoy down, so instead he called her Kadi parHA'Kahless, because she was so brave."

"McCoy? Her last name is McCoy?"

"It has been her whole life. Didn't you know that?" She questioned, her brows furrowing further into her wrinkles.

"She dropped it when she became a Lieutenant." Taggart said, his face slightly paler than it had been. "She hated when people would ask her questions about her family, so she dropped it." It got silent for a second, Spock and Kirk looking at one another, Chekov thinking about what to do, and Taggart attempting to latch onto Joanna telepathically.

Chekov broke the silence, offering his arm to Tavara. "Shall we?"


	12. But Our Colors Show Anyway

(Don't own, yadayada. Thanks chaoticmom for reviewing –again-)

Inside the gathering room it was noisy, and people were drinking loudly, alcohol sloshing from glass to glass. Although it was a mostly Klingon gathering, it was easy to pick out Joanna amongst the tall race, all hovering around her and talking admiringly. The entrance of the men didn't go unnoticed by all of the Klingon in the room, but mostly they were focused on the woman who was speaking with the Klingon High Council like she had known them her whole life.

Oh right, Kirk corrected himself, she had. She also was most likely the daughter of his best friend. He frowned without thinking about it, thinking that's who she reminded him of – a toned down version of McCoy. Except, around the Klingons, her behavior wasn't toned down at all. She was excited and a bit red in the face, one hand wrapped around a glass, the other moving in motions he knew but couldn't grasp. He couldn't grasp this at all. When he had David with his now ex-wife, he remembered when Bones had brought him out of the delivery room, all red and ruddy, like a proud parent. Bones thought he would never be a father, and he didn't mind mainly because children got in the way of being a doctor, and he was a doctor, damn it.

But Kirk wasn't so convinced that it was really why Bones hadn't had any kids. Sure, he had girlfriends, but never so serious that Kirk would meet them again or remember their names. In fact, he couldn't recall any names of Bones' exes, but mostly because whenever they met, he had been sloshed. Then Bones had just stopped dating all together. While he couldn't just thrust it out in front of Bones like that, he felt obligated to talk about it to someone who hadn't just found out this information too, like Spock. Maybe he could corner Chekov and force him to explain. A server was walking by with glasses of ale, and he took one. Spock, who had been standing next to him, took one as well.

"Spock?" His friend only drank if provoked or forced to by his sheer sense of politeness, rarely because he wanted to block stuff out.

"I've known her most of her life, Jim. I've known him longer. I never picked up on it. Never even considered it when I heard her last name, because I figured he would have told us. They haven't even spoke for longer than five minutes, but they're similar in ways that I didn't even think about until now. How illogical of me not to assume that they could only be of distant relationship – especially that temper of hers. It's amazing." Spock took a small, polite sip of his drink, his face blank as he reeled through the possibilities.

"It leads me to question if she knows. I mean, she has to know, right? Look at her." Kirk said, and they both did at the same time. Her smile was wide, her eyes dancing in the darker light. They had swirls of lighter green, but they were Bones', along with her sharp chin, which was rounded out by her long hair. It was dark ,but with those ribbons of red like the picture he'd seen of her mother, it was a perfect combination of the two of them. She had small teeth, but were more even than Bones', probably from the lack of bar fights Kirk watched her all night, as did Spock, only mingling occasionally with the Klingons, who were having what resembled a coming home celebration rather than a peace summit. He, of course, didn't mind because that meant he could study his subject and make sure Spock didn't do anything irrational.

Spock was very aware of the similarities that were in the two, more so than Jim because he knew her well. Her habits of cursing, betting against people she didn't like or knew too well, her fits of anger as a child now all made sense. The Klingons were glad to meet him, each apparently knowing who he was, a few thanking him. While his best friend watched Joanna, he watched the once naïve Pavel Chekov circulate the room with ease, something he was curious about. He spoke to the people as if he'd known them for a while too, and were razzing him about something he apparently hadn't done. He was a bit red as well, but more from embarrassment then from drink, as he had a glass of what Spock presumed was water. As the beginning of the formal dinner began, Spock and Kirk were grouped together by the lovely Tavara, who lead them over to where Chekov and Joanna were standing. Taggart, talking to another Council member, had been lead in before them, but as they approached the two, Spock studied their body language, Joanna relaxed and easy when Pavel tapped her elbow, her body then forming a V with his, complimenting his posture. The two looked mirror images of each other, smiles on their faces, talking like it was normal for them to be there. They looked almost too familiar with one another when he wrapped an arm around her waist, like he did it all the time. Like…

Before that, he was interrupted by a loud clanging, and his brain stumbled from its path. He then sat down next to Taggart, who was chatting animatedly with Tavara, at a long rectangular table, where across and two seats down from him sat what could be McCoy's daughter. At the head of the table was the Chancellor, Tavara next to him. Chekov sat next to Joanna, his smile slightly goofy as Kirk sat next to him, also solemn. The two nodded at one another, and while they were served some sort of soup with what appeared to be mushrooms. As a Councilor joined them to round out the small table, conversation started up again, but thankfully, it was in English.

"Kadi," Klitaric asked, "where is your sash?" He looked a bit angry, and Spock listened while he messed with what apparently was a sort of vegetable in sauce.

"You know I would be considered crazy if I wore it on a Federation ship, especially with my promotion to Captain."

"Why?"

"Unlike some people at this table, both my father and mother had flat foreheads."

"Your brothers and sisters do not though."

"Don't worry so much. I have it with me, I was going to wear it but we got a bit distracted with our friends up there, so I forgot to wear it." She looked up from her small bite of her dish and saw Spock struggling. "Having issues, Ambassador? Or is glasht just not your dish?"

Spock looked up, "I would like to eat it if it would stay on my utensils."

"It works best if you stab it, rotate it, and then eat it. Like spaghetti."

This sort of light conversation in between courses kept going as they experienced many Klingon dishes, Chekov warning them when some were not for the weak of stomach. They ate fire skin, Hurgh, Durani lizard skins, and the braver ones attempted to eat roteg blood pie, which slightly grossed Kirk out. Chekov also abstained from the dish, as it was, as Joanna put it, "not something you eat if you've never had it before." Spock managed half of it, but when he had slid his dish out of the way, the Councilor next to him had applauded him for getting that far. It was rare that an outsider, or even young children, got a quarter of a way through a blood pie. You had to work up to eating a full one, and even then you needed a lot of gusto to get through it.

While they all drank various levels of toxins, Spock and Kirk resorting to ra'taj, while Chekov and Taggart stuck with awje, as Chekov didn't want to get drunk and drinking messed with Taggart's head when he was here to protect by reading emotions and keeping steady. But everyone behaved, even were happy with their visit, as their table had visitors during interludes who introduced themselves. A prominent doctor had come over to Joanna and congratulated her on a well written dissertation. She had thanked him, mingled her glass of blood wine with his, and had toasted to his fantastic expertise.

After the meal ended with a small dish of zilm'kach, which Spock found quite tasty, the visit ended. It had been, surprisingly, a few hours, and although he had been drifting slightly, all of the coffee from the ra'taj was slowly floating through his veins. He knew Jim, and he knew what was coming as soon as they beamed back up to the Enterprise. However, it looked like Joanna had forgotten about the last name reveal and was practically skipping down the hallway with the Chancellor, discussing more things. Spock thought conversation could only go for so long, apparently he had been wrong. The hallway they had entered from was still vacant, and they all got back into position, Klitaric letting Chekov lead the slightly tipsy Joanna into her spot.

"We start negotiations tomorrow, Klitaric. Get a good night's rest."

"You too, Kadi. Wear your sash."

"I do what I want." She tapped her communicator, "Joanna to Serenity."

"Serenity to Joanna, hold positions while we beam you up." She waved goodbye to her foster brother, "ten seconds," she straightened up again, "energize."

Within they were back on the Serenity, Joanna was on the front of the transporter pad, wiggling a little bit, her smile warm and happy. Chekov walked off first, offering his hand to her, and they stepped off the platform together, apparently heading off. As she turned around to wish the rest of the guests goodnight, she was face to face with one James Tiberius Kirk. "Admiral –"

"Don't Admiral Kirk me, Captain. We were all there when we found out the news."

"What news?" Her happy expression morphed into one of mixed confusion and anger.

"That you're Bones' daughter. Don't deny it either, missy. You were born late and after your parents' divorce, which was in 2255. You're into medicine, you've never had a father before, your mother was a redhead, and you're from Kentucky."

"Jim." Spock interjected, but Kirk was too raring to go to even notice why his friend was calling his name. The other two had also not seen it.

"Not now, Spock. Earlier you had a temper fit that would have spiraled out of control if you hadn't caught it because you thought your surrogate family had betrayed you. Your last name is McCoy – don't tell me it's all a coincidence, Joanna."

"Her last name is what?" a new voice asked, and the other three turned around to see the doctor quizzically studying the five who were on the landing platform. Taggart, who had stayed surprisingly quiet during the whole intervention, was gingerly stepping towards the door; Spock was a blank slate but was obviously angry, his eyebrows knitted together. Chekov looked confused and a bit surprised, and Joanna just looked upset.

"My last name is frankly none of anyone's damn business." She dropped Chekov's loose grip on her hand, her face flaring up. "In another life I would have had a father, a family, a different life. But this isn't that life, and you know that very well, Admiral Kirk. The decisions made for me are none of your business, and no matter what you think, it was my decision. I found my own family, on Vulcan, on Klingon, even on this ship. Who cares if my biological father's alive – he's never cared about me before, and he never made a conscious effort to find me, if he even knew about me. I let my mother decide, and I've left it at that. Good night, everyone." And with that she stormed out of the transporter room with only a moment's hesitation when she reached the door. Her eyes locked with McCoy's, and he knew his friend had been right. Then she walked down the hall, away from the befuddled men who were in her wake.


	13. The Truth Stings

(Two in one day! I got bored and felt bad. Don't really own, etc.)

After her storm out, the room went quiet for a few minutes as the five men digested what was going on. Kirk still felt angry, but a bit ashamed because he too was a child of this alternate reality. In another life, as she had said, he had known his father as well. He had gotten so far up on his high horse that he had forgotten what it was like to know that other people had opportunities that you never had. She obviously had buried them inside, covered it with diplomacy and generosity, and kindness. In short, he felt ridiculous.

Eventually, Taggart broke the silence. "I guess it's time to talk about this. Lets go."

"Go where?"

"We're going to the main conference room, and we're all getting drinks and I'm going to explain to you the inner workings of Captain Joanna McCoy."

"Shouldn't we-" Chekov started, but was cut off.

"You know she won't let you in for at least another hour, Pavel. We just all need to relax. I'll break into her whiskey stash, even. This isn't a request either. This a command." With that, they all walked towards the lift in silence, went up to C Deck, and entered the main briefing room. The men all filed in quietly, as they had nothing to say but plenty to think about.

McCoy himself was stunned. The woman was his daughter, and she was barely a woman! He saw a bit of himself in her, but not enough to really be like "that's my daughter" definitively. But that temper tantrum she'd just thrown – her ideals, the way she defined herself – it reminded him of his temper. Her partiality to the South also made him question her paternity, as his ex-wife had remained there when he had transferred out to Starfleet. He hadn't been notified of anything concerning the former Brianna McCoy after they had divorced, but he had heard that she had died not long after their divorce. He had been so mad that he hadn't even read the full article, but he now regretted not taking more interest in his ex-wife. But boy, if she didn't resemble him, did she ever resemble Brianna. Brianna, with her short red hair, her light green eyes, her temper that was quicker to flare than his and her insistence that everything went her way; the one that had driven him crazy with adoration, then over time had slowly slid back into her comfort zone. The sex had been wild up until the day they signed the papers, but it was mostly from the hate that the two had felt for each other, the confusion about what had happened, the fact that thought they were getting a divorce, they loved each other. Apparently, this love had formed one now 23 year old spitfire, who had given him a look of … Well, a look he'd never thought he'd ever see.

Pavel Chekov was nervous. His palms were sweating, and he felt like he was being stared at. He of course knew that only one person in the room knew about his relationship with the captain, and although he ranked a bit higher than she did, he didn't want to stir up trouble with his partner's father. He had already spent two years with her adoptive family on both Klingon and on the Vulcan colony, but he couldn't very well go up to Doctor McCoy and say, 'Yes, I've been dating your daughter since she was 18, you know, she's great'. McCoy still had leverage on him weight wise and Chekov was not the fighting type, and even a newly found father would not want someone who was fifteen years older than his daughter dating her. But, then again, only Taggart knew. He sat down, his palms flat on the table, as far away from McCoy as he could without seeming like he was avoiding the man.

Spock was stunned. He finally understood everything. Spock Prime, the original one, knew more than he had ever told him, and it was obvious that he had shared his knowledge of the other world with the young girl at a young age. It also explains the anger that she had experienced on her seventh birthday, as she had asked for only one thing – her father's identity. Now he got the anger, the hurt, the fact she had to be moved because she was so emotionally unstable when she had been told about her father's identity and the fact that he probably didn't know about her. It was a grudge she'd carried for a long time. He sat next to what appeared to be an upset Chekov, but under the circumstances, they all were upset.

After leading them into the main conference room, Taggart had gone upstairs through a few back passages and gotten a bottle of Andorian Ale and a bottle of whiskey for the men in the briefing room, along with five glasses all stacked on top of one another. As he reentered, all of the men had circled around the table, leaving the head seat empty, which he assumed was for him. These four other men were famous men, men of history, and though their lives had differed from the original course they were supposed to have taken, he felt like they might veer back to their previous courses.

"Here we are, single malt whiskey and Andorian ale. I'd watch out, the Ale's more potent than it first lets on." He took the top glass himself and poured some ale in it, just so that for once, they'd all be on the same playing field. Chekov took a glass of ale, while McCoy and Kirk both had whiskey. After getting started on their first glasses, Taggart leaned back and started on his story.

"Now you've got to understand that she said this was alright. She and I, we've been friends ever since we got our first assignments together, and that happened to be with Pavel on the Firebird. She used to get really drunk and tell me things about herself, and then the next morning I would clean her up and tell her about my life. She was really depressed back then, but now it's a bit different.

That story about her mother dying by being hit by a car? It's a lie. When she was 3, her mother decided to find her father and explain, but the ship was hijacked by the Orion Syndicate and she died in the hostage situation. She doesn't hate the Orion for that; she just gets very hostile when people check her stories. Her mother's father took her in after that, but found out she was just too much for the old man to handle. Therefore, when the Vulcans called for students for their new academy, he sent her. He sent her at four years old to live on a foreign planet where she didn't even know the language or anyone. On the transport, she met who we all know as the other Spock, the one from the reality we'll never know. He identified her right away, took her under his wing when they reached the colony so she wouldn't get made fun of.

He treated her like a daughter, and I suppose to her, she was the closest thing to a father she's ever had. He told her all about the original Enterprise missions as bedtime stories, and she loved the fact that one of the main heroes' last name was McCoy, just like hers. When she turned seven years old, she asked Spock Prime if he had known her father, and he faltered. She, just as Admiral Kirk did, realized who her father was. In the stories she had been told, McCoy had a daughter, but she was a nurse, and he had always been in her life. Because of the rift," he paused, "her birth was pushed back, therefore never allowing her to know her father. She got very upset with Spock Prime, namely because of his involvement with the whole incident.

That's why she went to Klingon – because she couldn't stand to look at Spock Prime, knowing that he knew her father and refused to introduce the two. Spock thought it a bad idea, seeing as time had already altered enough, and that this McCoy was far more rational than the one he knew."

Kirk laughed a little, but the other men just stared him down. He went back to his drinking.

'That's why she was so accepted on Klingon – she was an adult before she knew what happened. Spock, you helped her find herself, but in the other universe, she was happy just doing what she normally did. She was driven to do whatever she could to better herself, to make her presence known to Doctor McCoy.

As time wore on, she realized he had never noticed her. That she was doing all this work in the medical field to be ignored, and that his best friend was a captain. So she enrolled in the leadership academy. Do you really think that without the Doctor over there, that you would have been allowed on this ship? This is a diplomatic mission, with work done by both Ambassador Chekov and Joanna, and the both of them didn't want anyone else interfering. Pavel assumed it was because of Ambassador Spock, but it was all because McCoy was on the ship with you."

He paused to take a sip of his drink and let the information sink in. The doctor had paled significantly, and everyone else in the room seemed to be thinking over what was just said. Alcohol impaired his ability to read minds clearly, but he got a happier vibe from Chekov, who had apparently thought that he was going to spill the beans about him and Joanna. They weren't too obvious, he had thought, but he also had to drink because he could still read Chekov's mind, and occasionally that wasn't the most fun thing to do.

"So you're sure she's mine?"

Spock answered for him, "Doctor, I am sure. I've known her almost all of her life and if she isn't the real McCoy, then something or someone is messing with our perception of reality."

"He's right, Bones. It was bugging me who she reminded me of, but it was you. I guess it always has been. I would just leave her to sulk for a little while though. Knowing you, her pride's probably really sore right now."

Instead of responding, McCoy just took the bottle of whiskey and put it in his lap. "I'm going to need some more of this."


	14. Like Father, Like Daughter

(Can you tell that the only place my work doesn't block is FF? Don't own, etc.)

While they discussed her past, Joanna was steaming in the present. Her stalking had led her to her quarters, but on the walk back, she had sent off 'Don't talk to the Captain' vibes to anyone who had passed. They all may have not been Betazoid, but they all got the message quite well. Most of them had never seen her angry before, so they steered clear instead of politely inserting themselves into the situation, which she appreciated.

Once back in her chamber, she took off her heavily stylized shirt by just pulling it over her head – unlike before, she could get her things off without anyone else. She unzipped her pants and stepped out of them, half-naked and alone, and suddenly her brain caught up with her heart. He knew – they all knew. Even Pavel, who she had convinced that she didn't want to know her father was, had found out that in another life, she had been one Joanna McCoy, born 2249 to Brianna and Leonard McCoy in a Podunk suburb of Louisville, Kentucky. She had a good relationship with her father, and when her parents had divorced at six, he had begun writing her. The pair rarely saw each other, but they kept in touch. Her - that girl's, she reminded herself, not hers – father had saved her life on a planet where she'd been studying nursing. She had never done the great things that she was now famous for – becoming the first Terran to ever withstand Klingon moQ'bara training without extensive martial arts training, the first Terran to ever be adopted into a Klingon royal house, the youngest Captain in Starfleet history who also had a medical license.

She took a breath in. If she was his daughter, he would want to know stuff about her? Hadn't he served with Pavel on the Enterprise? His ass would be totally fried if McCoy found out. Dad. For the first time in what felt like forever, but had realistically been about half an hour, she laughed. Pavel getting chased around by the grouchy doctor was an idea that made her howl with laughter, actually grabbing her chair because she was overcome with the giggles. It had always been good to laugh, and she knew if she didn't get her temper under control, that the negotiations that had gone so smoothly so far would be ruined by her mood.

She got up on her bed, wrapping her legs together in the traditional prayer pose. She had some serious praying and meditating to do before she spoke to anyone, Kahless bless her.

.

Meanwhile, the men had gotten their heads clearer, and were discussing their visit to Qo'noS. Well, most of them – McCoy still had the bottle in his lap, stunned by the fact that he had a child that had been verified by two people, one person who'd known in another universe that she was his. And he knew nothing about her. Well, nothing was a harsh word, but very little. He knew she was 23, the youngest captain ever in Starfleet, had a medical license and was best friends with a Russian and a Betazoid. She handpicked her crew, which included a Doctor who he had overseen the training of, and had known about him since she was seven.

Still, he had missed years of her life. He lifted the bottle to his lips, severely confused about what the last 23 years of his life had been like without her, as his best friend shot him little concerned looks, worried about his mental health. Eventually, when the subject had changed to their favorite missions on the Enterprise, McCoy interrupted the conversation.

"Tell me everything."

"Excuse me, Doctor?" Taggart asked, as he was enthralled by the Tribbles story Chekov had been describing.

"About her, tell me everything. I'm the only one of us who's meeting her for the first time, and the only thing that I've observed about her is that she writes a damn good dissertation."

"Well," Chekov shot Taggart a look, and the room went quiet as Chekov thought _Should we really tell him?_ and Taggart nodding at him, solemn. "Her favorite color is green. She likes spicy foods and Italian foods. She'll eat any sort of meat you put in front of her, but lately she's been trying to stay with the lean meats. She thinks she's getting fat."

"Favorite musician?"

"She likes Andorian jazz," Taggart said, "and 20th century folk music. If I ever listen to Woody Guthrie again," Chekov joined in, "it'll be too soon." The two of them laughed with each other with ease, as if it was a private joke.

"She adores spending time on Earth. If she could be in space and on Earth at the same time, she would. She's been to all seven continents, owns a house on two of them, and is constantly on the go. She took me to the Kentucky Derby last year, but I still don't understand her fascination with horses."

"She likes Andorian ale and vodka when she's not on duty. She has a nasty habit of drinking and singing popular music along with the jukebox. She's always out of tune."

"It's like listening to a cat dying."

"She's that bad?" McCoy laughed a little, and the two men nodded their heads vigorously, like it was common knowledge that their Captain could not sing to save her life.

"Awful. Also, when she's not on duty, she has a sailor's mouth. In her head too, it's worse than I've ever heard her out loud." Taggart rolled his eyes like it was the bane of his existence. "She can curse in at least seventeen languages, and trust me, she gets real colorful when she thinks I'm not listening. Which is quite often."

"But she's always professional. Always. Once, this ensign broke her toe, and she told him it was alright. Taggart was literally bent over from how hard he was laughing at what she was saying in her mind."

"Was that when my son broke her toe?" Kirk asked, and the two men, who had been chuckling, looked at the Admiral for a second before bursting out in uncontrollable laughter. It was like they'd been hit with laughing gas, and eventually McCoy joined their chuckles, because it was funny. How often had he told a young officer that it was okay that they had made a mistake, then came back to Jim's quarters and reamed said officer about the sheer stupidity of his crew, how he needed to pick more efficient officers that didn't break tubes or medical supplies that they needed.

Spock didn't find this funny though, and Kirk had at least one person in the room who was as silent as he was. He didn't find it funny, but he was also still worried about Joanna. She'd always gotten angry for hours, sometimes even days on end as a youngling and was inconsolable if someone had wronged her. Once, she hadn't spoken to him for three weeks because he had decided for her that she wasn't to go visit her grandfather on Earth. What a mistake he had made, but now he saw the resemblance between her and that hot-headed doctor that he had spent the better part of his life with.

After their laughter died down, McCoy with a small smile on his face, he asked another question, "So, if she's so into the whole Earth thing, does she have a boyfriend?" Chekov and Taggart paled, and Chekov's mind kicked off into a mode of sheer panic. They both remained silent, and McCoy's smiled faded into a grimace, his eyebrows furrowed in anger as he didn't get a response readily to what he perceived was an easy question, but made the two officers look like he'd threatened to kill them. "What, does she swing for the other team or something? Why do you two look like I told you someone just died? Being a lesbian isn't the end of the world."

"It isn't that. She likes men." Taggart confirmed.

"She definitely likes men." Chekov nodded.

"So she doesn't have a boyfriend?" he demanded.

"Well, I mean, you know the regulations about Captains and relationships – "

"I also know that if she's my daughter, she'll have a boyfriend. Or a husband! Is that it, is she married already? I swear to –"

"No, that isn't it either. She's really rational, remember? She grew up with the Vulcan tree of logic, she knows that being a married Starfleet officer this young would only cause a strain on her relationship with whomever she chooses."

"So she's single?" The two men looked at each other, and McCoy was getting sick of this. "What aren't you two telling me? C'mon Chekov, I'm not going to bite too hard into the man that's picked my daughter to be with."

"The thing is, sir, you will." The Russian answered, avoiding eye contact and instead focusing on the insignia on McCoy's shirt.

"Why? Is she dating that Tellarite?" a headshake from the two, " Doctor Crusher?" another vehement headshake from the pair, "Admiral Pike?" the two of them laughed at that one, "Jim?" They got even more hysterical at that one, with his best friend reddening.

"What was that one for, Bones? She's half my age."

"It wouldn't be the first time you skirt chased someone that you knew was too young. Besides, you were the one who commented on how goddamn pretty she was."

"Touché." Kirk responded, "But now you've really got me interested, gentlemen. Who is this mystery man that she's dating. Is it one of you two?"

Now they weren't laughing. The smiles were gone from their faces, their expressions blank. It was never fair to play games of emotions with a Betzoid, namely because they knew your every move before you expressed it.

"If it was?" Taggart asked calmly.

McCoy shrugged, "You seem like a nice enough fellow, I mean, you're a Betazoid, which means your sex is crazy, but I mean, I can't deny that it's her choice."

"It isn't him, Leonard." Chekov said calmly, as well. Chekov rarely addressed the former officers of the Enterprise by their first names, and it normally only came when he meant business. "I met her seven years ago, and I can honestly say that she's the first and only woman I've been in love with."

McCoy raised an eyebrow at the former helmsman, and started to laugh. "Good one, Chekov. You're getting almost as good as Spock with the poker face."

"He isn't lying, Doctor. I watched the two of them interact of Qo'noS, and I thought I was seeing things. Apparently, I wasn't." McCoy looked at the Vulcan, who was expressing his honest opinion on his face - that his daughter was dating a former crewmate of his, one that had at least ten years on her, if not more.

"You're serious?" He stood up quickly, knocking his chair back. "I'm going to have a talk with my daughter now."

"I don't think it –" Spock added, but he was cut off by McCoy.

"I don't give a damn about what you think, Spock. I'm going to speak with my daughter."


	15. It's Not An Problem

(Sorry my updating's gone a little haywire, a lot's going on but thanks for sticking with me. Don't own, etc)

Once he got out of the conference room, McCoy got angrier and angrier as he stomped towards the lift. Not surprisingly, it looked like something his newly found daughter had done about an hour earlier. It didn't matter much to him how they were alike anyway, as his mind kept racing through the events of the past hour at an alarming pace. It seemed as no one was following him, and he intended on keeping it that way.

After he and his wife had gotten a divorce, it had become a one man show. Him. He, of course, had Jim, and the occasional girlfriend, but besides that he had devoted himself to bettering himself and medicine. He had become one of the most remarkable doctors in the Federation, decorated with medals for helping civilizations and for his pinnacle speech about the postponement – and inevitable cancellation – of the Genesis project until they could understand why it was necessary, and how it violated the Prime Directive. Creating life because you could and forming a culture in images of the others violated those creatures natural rights, and inferred that as mortal beings, we wanted to become a version of our gods. That had really struck a chord in the morally sound, and won him a standing ovation in the Federation gallery. He was pretty proud of that.

Then again, he was pretty proud of her. His daughter. She had a medical license, and she was captain of a starship, all before he had gotten his license in his lifetime. At 23, he had been on some number of girlfriend and drinking a lot. Which, in reality, was not a lot different than right now, but she was a wild thing. And she was dating that quirky Chekov, who was kind of old for her, but maybe she had a daddy complex. He had studied psychology extensively at one point and time, but mainly it was to figure out what attracted about 85% of the women his best friend met to him. After extensive research, he had labeled it the "Jim Kirk syndrome" and had moved on from his obsession with psychology. Then it was research and conferences and staying at the Academy and watching new doctors try not to screw up or kill anyone while he was watching them. He reached the lift and waited as it rose to his level.

As he got on the lift, Pavel Chekov ricocheted off the side of the ship as he had done many years ago, this time sliding down the hall after McCoy, not awesome usages of physics knowledge. Following him was the irritable Taggart Gignac, who seemed visibly upset by all of this, but instead of bouncing, he was stalking. Both of them saw as the door slid closed, leaving the moody doctor with at least a few minutes head start.

"Now vhat do ve do?" Chekov yelled at Taggart, his accent thick and his cheeks red.

"We let them duke it out. They're adults, Pavel. It's not like we were really going to stop him. We were just going to give her a few seconds with my warning to, I don't know, make sure she had a shirt on?"

Little did they know that the warning would have come in handy, as the Captain sat meditating in the middle of her floor, only her underthings on an she concentrated on focusing all of her energy into positive things, like physical strength in case they made her do something dumb tomorrow, like drink tea with Klitarc or fight someone. Not like in regular circumstances she couldn't handle herself, but with McCoy on her medical team, researching more into the specifics of Klingon physiology and body systems, she would be on her guard more than usual. It wasn't unusual for anyone of the house of Kaas to pick her up and mess with her, as she was the tiniest in the family, but for her newly found father, who had not visited Qo'noS today with them, he might freak out with her being thrown around a room. She had learned very early on to just go with it, and eventually someone would put her down. Everything would work itself out, and with any sort of luck, the three visitors would make them useful and not distract her.

A knock knocked her out of what was seemingly a trance, and forcing her to get up from the floor. It could only be one person.

Surprisingly, it could have been two people. Her father stood outside the door, his left foot tapping impatiently for his daughter.

Yet it wasn't him she was expecting, because she answered the door in her bra and panties, her eyes rolling as she started a sentence with "I thought -". Then she looked at him, in his mussed blue shirt and crinkled pants, his brown hair going in all different directions, his mouth in a firm line.

He took this moment of quiet to examine her, her auburn hair falling quite normally to about her shoulders, an expanse of freckles running from the curve of her neck down, but what stopped him in his tracks was a ring of purple-red marks around her navel. Though he had gotten over the fact he had a daughter, the fact that she was the one that was dating the former navigator of the Enterprise still befuddled him. Especially due to the ring of hickies that seemed to be ignored by the captain. It made him blood boil to think that anyone would do that to her, namely what he saw as innocent little Chekov. "Not who you thought I was?"

"I honestly though you would stay out of my way." She said, leaning against the doorframe. Her hazel eyes met hers, and for the first time it was as if he really understood her. She didn't want a father figure – she wanted to be left alone and to be acknowledged by him.

"What if I didn't?" he asked after a few moments, and he saw something in her eyes he couldn't explain. It looked like fear – fear of him tearing down her guard, fear of him learning something. The moments of silence lasted until both of them opened their mouths at the same time, only to hear "Captain!" from the other side of the hall.

Sprinting down the hall was Orindele, who had obviously been asleep due to her wrinkled clothes and her pillow lines on her forehead. "Captain, we need you on the main deck. We've run into some issues."

"Issues?"

"The Orion are back with more ships and look as if they are going into attack formation. Although they are older ships than ours, we may have issues with –"

"Them attacking Klingon. Find Ambassador Chekov, Commander Taggart. We'll deal with him." Orindele nodded and bolted off again, and Joanna flicked her hair back in frustration.

"I need to fix this first."

"I know. I'll go help Crusher in sickbay."

"Thank you Doc- Leonard." She couldn't bring herself to call him Dad, it was too strange a concept and too strong a word. When she said Dad, she thought of a Klingon with wide eyes, throwing her around his practice room and making fun of her standing on tables to be taller. She also saw a Vulcan with dark eyes laughing in amusement. Whether there was room in her heart for a merry eyed Terran, she had yet to decide.

"It's no problem, Joanna." As he walked away, she felt a tight squeeze in her stomach; it made her uncomfortable, but she ignored it to find her pullover and get some pants on.

Within five minutes, all of the main crew was sitting upon the deck of the Serenity. In the center sat Joanna, her hair in a high ponytail, a frown on her face. On her left sat Taggart, his face also set like stone. Her right hand was Chekov, who looked grim yet was more focused on her and her steely face glare at the blank screen. Next to Chekov was a fuming Vaasarin, who hated being summoned out of his chambers or the engineering decks in general, his face almost purple with rage at the Orion. In fact, he had almost asked what could be considered his best friend, the lieutenant that served under him who was Orion, to come with him, but he'd let him stay back in case the Orion fired. He also needed someone he trusted. Next to Taggart was Doctor Nathaniel Crusher, who looked like he was about as old as the Captain. His face was stony, as he had left McCoy to handle his sick bay as the older man had stalked in and started working on his patients without even asking. Normally he would have loved the help, but the need for him here was more pressing.

"Orindele – hail them." Joanna said as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes focused on the screen. She complied. The face from earlier popped up on the screen, and the captain smiled an angry smile, one that said screw you and hello at the same time. "We meet again."


End file.
